Gum is another tongue in your mouth,
taste-bud studded with sugar and pink

Hubba Bubba Double Bubble

Your jaw feels like expanding bread
when you rest from chewing
flatten it into a saucer and
let it balloon from your mouth,

it distends like an internal *****
or the full stomach of a frog
spilling from your lips

(When he stretches, you see veins
******* across his amphibian chest)

It hooks itself on your nose
and wilts into a pink tangle.

Once more the Big Bang occurs
Each time spurred on by the spark
of the sleeping child's dream of reality
A naked singularity inflates
at an exponential rate
Subsisting on the substrate
of her slumbering psyche

Her neural networks create galaxies
Energy expended directly from REM sleep
spent on the formation of solar systems
and stars
comets crash land carrying key components
for the conditions of future life on Earth
and Mars

Within the primordial soup
Of the third rock from the sun
Residing in the ocean
-life has just begun
Microbes photosyntesize carbon
Giving Earth an atmosphere rich with oxygen
Arbitrary factors steer evolution
Tetrapods mutate from fish
becoming amphibious

Exodus.

Something steps onto the surface
- for the first time
Two billion years have elapsed
mere minutes move in the girl's mind

It was maybe thirty minutes since
she bade her mom goodnight
The child sleeps tight
Meanwhile a caveman strikes flint on timber
The resulting embers form a fire
Providing him with warmth and some light

Callous winds from outside conquers
the comfort of her comforter
A chill permeates the child's skin
This feeling reverberates all the way down
The first ice age begins
A frozen world of snow
For eleven thousand years
Her mother creeps in closing her window
The ice age ends

External stimuli
affects those things which rely
on her to sustain sleep

The 21st century is past the prime of its peak
The greenhouse effect from carbon
Corrupts the ozone, making it weak
Wars carry on over resources or religion
Water levels rise and countries
remain in division
Governments pick payouts over compassion  
Indifferent to what happens
With their most vulnerable citizens
Letting most rot in for-pay private prisons
Yet far removed from all these chaotic conditions in this society,
...The child still snoozes,ever so quietly

There's no more gods In the 2,001st century.

In their place, now only harmony and grace
Humanity banded together as a unified race
galvanized toward a single, common goal
To flee the dying planet
before it swallows them all whole

A contingency plan is put in place
For when the scientists fail
and the Earth collapses under its own weight
A ship will be sent deep into outer space
containing embryos and astronauts
suspended In a cryogenic state

The sun assaults the closed blinds
Testing the resolve of the resting child...

Two astronauts are jolted awake
En route,they believe
To a viable new world to habitate
Earth imploded five decades past
But with mass embryonic incubation
-they will revive humanity
Saving it from the brink
of all-out annihilation,
All that hinges on is if they can first safely reach:
Their destination

A routine glance
at procedural scans on the screen
Shows they shifted an exigious sum
while they were sustained in cryogenic hibernation
This detour turned exponential;
when you tally up the years
They fail to attain any feelings aside from fear
for this journey they must now embark
a single line of corrupted code controls their ship,
"The Noah's ark"
These last two have veered so far
from what would have been humanity's
new home
-With no way to course correct
They suspected their task would take a toll
But they were not expecting anything
like this:

Adrift towards a rift in reality
The ship's malfunction
steered them in its wake
It's too late now:
-far too close they can't escape
That dark incision distends itself
gourging on time and space
There is a beauty to how things end
Watching superheated gas and dust aggregate
Creates an accretion disk concealing vacuity
-Yet shines much brighter
than an angel's halo
The two astronauts strap in to the cockpit
With front row tickets to the show:
...just how far down the black hole,
         are you willing to go?

The mother returns,
fully opening the blinds
Cuddles next to her resting child...

Meanwhile Inside the singularity
The last human sees a secret and weeps
He's peering beyond the veil now
Into a little girl's room who is asleep
Yes, he sees her clear
her mother spoons her nestling near,
Shakes her shoulders softly,
whispers into her daughter's ear,
-As she does every morning day,
" what did you dream of this time, my dear?"

She kisses her daughter on the cheek
The little girl yawns as she speaks
Birds outside have started to sing:

"Momma, I think I dreamed of...Everything?"

His eyes close
The man gives in to that sweet release
All of her internal creations ceast
Consumed
as the child is wrenched from the well
Of her own unconscious infinity
The pocket dimension contained within her
Is decimated as she arises
All that energy then metabolizes
to sustain her life
And when she rests it will be divested
once again
To create a new dimension-
as it does every night

Eternal Bloom
Entire galactic timetables and scales contained
In the slumbering soul of a six-year old
She will grow old
She will wither
She will die
As the world's which reside in her do,
When she wakes.

- when she meets her fate
On that operating room table
at the age of 98
the light which emanates at the end of the tunnel

Was merely a father's mistake.

Illumination cast killing darkness
In the bedroom of his home
he absentmindedly turned up the brightness
While playing on his phone
She takes one last breath then fades to grey
In sync with the father stowing his device away
Not alone in his room
he snuggles in for the night
-And can't help but smile
Unaware of the realms
that depend on the dreams

Of his own unassuming, resting child.

-

backdrop distends
1. Nine-pane white window woman boasts bellyfull of central air
2. Sneaky sunshine sheets smothering soft sugarplums, sleepy eyes still hung with chandeliers exchange shy glances with a new world hiding behind a
3. Cheerful and robust pink mother waves goodbye to foggy ghost-cold who dangles ten frigid and grainy fingers over tiny tired schoolgirl
4. Black metal wings stretch and return to position while groggy black engine awakes to serve thirty-five malnourished miles
5. Bellyfull of central air scoops up groggy black engine both sneak into smothering sunshine sheets that envelope tiny tired schoolgirl
fade to white

Boorish words fall out of my mind across a page so white.
Is this what great poets accomplish, a drivel of the mind, a sludge that distends from me to you?
No, this is emotion wonderland, a through the rabbit hole tumble to the topsy turvy world of Ben.
There is no great poet; only man, no contemporary English genius in hiding within I; only me.
A curvy frame belies an interest in the obvious.
You’re distracted by the pretty girl, and her enormous ******* hang in your vision.
Maybe there is nothing beyond her *******; a seemingly infinite reality is etched on her soft flesh.  
A reality of many options, luminous statues roped off to the touch.
The bent frames of a social enterprise, thousands of years of thought piled in a heap, reach for the stars!  
What happens to the old ideas?
Where do my metaphors go to die?
I hope it’s not my imagination, littered with already lost initiative, now running from my searching eye.

Music is madness.
It screams
Through seventeen
Forked tongues
And pounds
Its pig-skin urban drums,
Ordering on the
Machines of meat;
A soundtrack with
Samsaran beat.

Music is mournful.
It is the caw of the crow
‘Neath the stain of the sky;
The song of the wind
To squeeze truth
From your eyes.
It weaves woven silk of
What could be,
Pirouetting through the air
In a gorgeous despair.

Music is a ghost
That crawls on our skin,
Armed with gilded subterfuge
To bargain its way in;
To coil ‘round consciousness
In serpentine swathes,
Spreading its questions
With ephemeral grace;
Covering completely
Our naked cold
In a gossamer blanket
Of symphonic souls.

Music is a bird
That sings when I want
Booming its voice
From an amplified cage.

But bars soon will bend
As a zephyr distends,
Lifting me with
Wings full of holes.
Climbing the clouds
In communion I fly
Seeking infinity
As eyes drink the sky.

I,ve unclosed
                      (and
                             ­   i
                                  will speak
                                                      slowl­y
                                                               ­    trees

steeply uncrooked breathing 'gainst
the racing moon over the valley bending
swiftly thoughts of ungiant sprigs puckish
in the frailing summers wings

a wig of tender incandescent drops cavort
in silent wetness on petals the)

a cadence of caving murdered light
seamless fluid winsome dusting upon
the unserious lips of night flexing effortlessly
by their touch, and flaccid, upon mine
i am drugged
   of lilywhite tubes; crumbs of hushed love
a draught of limpid steam.    i

laced and foamy the jaw distends

Remember all the days you never lived.          ...Ahh But what you wouldn't give...
                         Tip the scales to disrepair and know what it is to be the
                                                                ­  living dead.
    
    Who else amongst us hath seen them walk again?

     Lifeless, infected.       Soulless.        Only bones within.
  Sustenance injected.                   Eyes dark as pitchblende.
    Heart  Neglected.                  Loosing rhythm as it distends.
      Feel protected?                  On your doorstep it doth impend.
And furthermore my friends, more than just a few of us,
   are as ****** as them.          You see, life seeks out solutions
                                       to conundrums of survival,         problems,          strife.
                                       Watch it steal away the will to stay and any real meaning to life.
                                        Death, the payment for travel inside this nexus of senses and sexes
                                        seems painful and excessive or made brief by all the excesses,
                                         is non-refundable no matter how you choose to live
                                         for even the ungrateful agree it was a small price to give
  
Let the dead share with you your secrets."There is but plenty to fear" And "The store is always open, so ya'll come back now you hear?"

This is no fairy tail or a callow dream
I’m inside a black and white reality
Here there’s no fun anomalies
I can feel the fear that faces me

Bag on my back, plan intact
My breath chasing down this act
Courage compelling me to sign the pact
To seize freedom from a lost land

Each step sparks a second guess
Will this idea betray me to regret
Even with instinct screeching out my chest
Follow the present, forget the rest

Pick out memories to make a trail
Unload all empathy so I won’t bail
Anticipation becomes stale
Just an inch of hope helping me sail

I finally find a forest of friends
A sigh of relief, I breathe in the end
The trees, the flowers, my soul distends
Escaped to a place where my mind can amend

These sonnets, these sonnets
These words would never end
This love this melody
This lilt shall remain a friend
this passion this hope
this need; lives it transcends

I keep writing making silly rhymes. Words fall, bend, blend in an array of meaningless thoughts. Love contend with ache: Heart content with brain. My soul, unable to comprehend, lets out a sigh. Unintended it amends and wends my beilefs. My boat ascends foreword. My heart pretends normal. Away from the condescending colleagues, I head to in the direction of dreams. At a distance, I see her waving, and I look down on my hand, engraved a name: she owns. My palm distends and announces an arrival. I pretend this will be final. A call from the wild invokes my mild intentions to tell her the truth and hope this won't be vital.

if they were to
strap me down
upon the concrete bed
aside the
polished steel
of the
Dairy Queen
Machine

modified just for me
with the carnival calliope
and that special
polyethylene
hose
the "new car smell"
threaded
with such care
from the
spigot
to
my
gullet

would i bear it well?

would i fight back
when they threw the switch
and the warm
slop
began to
flow?

i’ve heard
they sometimes
fill these machines with
medical waste

but
this tastes
different
today

oh sure
i might struggle
even as
my abdomen distends
my fibres unravel
the tar
seeps out from me
and wets
my
spine

i might
risk
everything
anything
for
a second chance
i might
but then
again
i haven’t
before

so why start now?

As long as my heart
begins to speak,
so long as my mind
starts offevolved
navigating.

There's a
language inside
that bubbles,
bursts in fire,
- yeah, my burning desire.

My soul floats
in the sea of clouds
that my eyes
distends to check
thousand of words
racing up in my pen
to write on my sheet.

My feelings have been bottled up for years
My mind is heavy with thoughts
Stretching back so far I have no memories,
Just feelings and moments

When I drink they crowd around
And whisper the darkest things
I wonder if what they say is true

I eat and eat and eat
Till my stomach distends
And when I burp I feel the pressure
Feeling so full
Is the only thing that makes me feel...full

The days haze woefully gray
as I sit here, alone, and my blaze decays.
Empty promises never go away,
and so I swear to close their place
in my desperate heart. But the night
lives as long as it is tenebrous. I’ve tried
to hide, to bide my time until they see
the type of person that I can be. To me,
it was a waste; they didn’t want to be
the friend that I needed. And so I pleaded
with myself to never be so weak. But the ends
of my week stayed littered with fleeting
hopes to be included, to be one of them.

I attempted to be bold and put my fears on hold
because regret lives longer than the night.
And yet I remain here unnoticed and unwanted. I hate
how my doubt distends and bends so bitterly.
But perhaps it is my fate? Am I destined to be late
from the gaze of my peers; to be deaf in their ears?
But I can’t deny that it hurts as I am a blur
in the vision of my friends. My patience is evasive.
I am set to wait, while they are sated and I hate it.

The night is a heavyweight and I am too weak.
I strive to not be so jealous. I wish to not feel so much.
I want to need myself more. But the night is not light,
it is an empty reach, stinging with envy. My eyes
are sorrowed by such a shade, but they despise
by their lonesome. So loathsome is the blight
that comes with the lonely night. It arrives
much unlike a good knight. It lurks there despite
my might, and it is never defeated when we fight.
The white of daylight is gone by the sight of the night...