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s Nov 2018
Egg
you sit on my back
like a chicken on an egg
with a mocking flap,
shuffle and a wiggle
tucked and stacked -
chuckle and a giggle.
both - joke and cuddle
- die as they're written down
but could I risk to memory -
that near perfect winter warmth ?
--

as I sit to study
our curiosities -
creating patterns & poems
of contradicting absurdities;
listening to the jugalbandi
of predictability & tease,
instigating the battle
between curiosity & belief,
logging how we manoeuver differences
with a pursued kind of ease -
love sits quiet,
amused but revealed,
its appetite appeased -
with a wholesome kind of meal.
laura Nov 2018
egg whites
Cold and sunny— to be honest
you’re the only person
it shines on these days

negligent happiness
******* poking through
the egg white sheets we lay in
Sid Lollan Aug 2017
◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

(Authors of (obligatory)
Redemption: what is true genius if it ain’t dead yet?
Let you, who **** it, not be present for its resurrection.)

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

i had a nightmare:

i opened the door of my ranch-house in the boonies of
southern pa.
out-into the grasses of the old Congo;
There stood the Lion.
20 feet away
i, frozen in the magnitude of his vision;
spirit, dominated by his
completely;
Not even a growl.
i remained
paralyzed—he licked the backs of his paws
and combed a wiry mane...
…a halfa-second was a year if it was a halfa-second now...
but
somewhere in there
i regained my legs and without knowing
pivoted,
grabbed the doorknob. Twist. Open. Step inside.
turn to close the...doorway is gone, the house has vanished
And
HE WAS RIGHT ON TOP OF ME

i was nothing but-a body of plastic fear
molten,
melted and cast into mannequin limbs and head.
i could feel the Lion’s entire, real
spirit crushing spirt
on my hollow caste self.

his breathe stunk of blood that
forced my replicaego into infant curl…
…Finally, the beast roared a canyon
i shivered!
a shiver that shook inside my head
thru the spine to shake
my bones inside the bed.

Thru the constricting red curtain of bloodclot eye
spy the tiny eclipse
of the Black Crow inna massive sheet of african sun;
i must be dead already.
The Lion feels the Crow perched onna cape fig nearby
and his muscles tighten accordingly, his beastly hunger
displaced by boiled-blood anger.

Eye-to-Eye
with the beast
where Fear has reached saturation-point;
it is Nothing if it is Everything…
…the Crow lets out a hiss
like spikes of radio-static, interrupted by series
of whooping-caws…
…stomach vibrated by the Lion’s low,
almost internal growl. For the
first time, his tranquilizing orbs
divert from mine
to capture the Black Crow perched on the dying cape fig.
uncertainty taps my shoulder…then…i feel my body;
the weight releases
and as i motion to rise from the grass and dirt, the Congo dissolves and i’m
sitting up on my mattress with broken springs in the humid
summer slumber of southern pa.

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

-What security?
programmed,
under deep-cover;
jungian re-uploads. Them. Resurrected witha blackmarket
medicine a Witch Doctor devolution;
Replicate, regenerate, forever
<01100101 01100001 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01110100 01100001 01101001 01101100 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01100111 01110010 01101111 01110111 00100000 01100001 00100000 01101000 01100101 01100001 01100100>
Bottom feeding grave robbers and tomb vandals are all they are!-

-Better check what ya put down here…liable to shape a ghoul,
and you know this haunt is made-up of enough spooks-

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊

Professors of chaos preach:
O wanderers!
write me the manifesto
walking atop a line of hot coals
-I smell me some burning soles-

(They intend to:
Pour, pure from cold-clear spring-spout
      into muddy-brown-clay, dissolved,
rushing against dried-up bones of gully-walls…
…the Crow just sits above
         and laughs there

Don’t ya see it?)

History
is not about the past,
but
about what the present
can mold the past
into
for the future.
-the marble’s trajectory sure to
flip onnit’s axis d’pending on which record you dig-

(One mistake
can a coward make
or
one accident happen
up-on that a martyr stake’d.
etched in the rut of each separate fate;)


The lion
must roar for his P R I D E
        (or?)
lion wears his hide
as a mascot
Black Crow eats crow egg blues
        black crow spotted me yellow in the bushes
pants down, gun-in-hand
-send your prayers-

◊ ◊ ◊ ◊ ◊
Jen Dec 2018
Egg
You give me simple pleasure,
As I bite into your inner layer.
I love you in the morning
In between a bagel,
Sometimes with bacon.

In the afternoon,
By a salad’s side you sit,
With my favorite edibles-
Arugula, red peppers, fresh peas,
Black and green olives,
Topped with chicken, cheese,
Sesame vinaigrette, and,
A few croutons for crunch.

You are an Egg, but so much more.

The texture and depth of your yolk,
Sublime and sumptuous;
Your outside solid, yet undefined;
Balancing textures with what’s inside.

Egg,
You are truly
Divine.
Vexren4000 Oct 2018
I never knew you,
A secret kept,
Broke my heart,
Like an egg cracking on the counter.
My shell broken,
By nothing but words unsaid.

©BAS
What once is now was
My feet tread delicately over egg shells
Balance on unsturdy tightropes
My body's equilibrium thrown off
My legs shake like an earthquake of emotion
From outer to inner core, I see
A slimmer of green light, my american dream
I am the Great Gatsby
Holding onto a bit of the past
Desiring it to become the present
To the future of mine
Yet with soft words
I am met with inevitable flames of anger
A rage so powerful, so dangerous
So provoking, prodding me like a cow
The man I was born from
Whom is supposed to defend me
Is one that destroys me
His words conform, turning into a wrecking ball
Slam into my heart, destroying it
Pieces fall down like pebbles tip, tipping against a lover's window
Except it taps the windows of Satan
Awakening unknown, terrifying horrors
As bottles clink, can crash, alcohol splatters
So does the confidence I once had
mbm
Luke Colbert Jun 2018
Baby I've got a six-pack
of Coke
We're gonna have a good night
Goodnight
Don't you think that we should
give up
Don't you think that we should
start a fight

I was born and raised
on methane
I was always taught
to never profane
Green and yellow grass
were my best friends
I was always taught
to make amends

All I've ever been
is full of ****
and I wear it proudly
with a grin
All I've ever done
is plug myself
and I wear it proudly
on my chin

You told me you could do a back flip
then ran away when I asked your name
I've never felt as sad as that day
I took a course on **** and relay
I took some pills that looked like diamonds
Readied myself for a life of staring
How could I be so bold and daring
Guilty of sin before preparing

You know, I should at least TRY to take over the world
Jeff Stier Jul 2016
My avid gaze
spoke to the rosary
of your flesh

My heartsick tremors
marked me as a wanted man
and burned the villages
of my ancestors

I was a refugee
from time
a friend to no man

My tears washed the blood
from my hands
my eyes withered
the tender bud

So when did I read poetry
on your lips?

Did your mountains fracture
and disintegrate into
sparkling shards
as mine did?

Was the moon an egg
in your basket
as it was in mine?

Little do we know
of the other
when first we clasp hands
and agree

In time
and with luck
we learn.
I tried to write a poem in the style of Pablo Neruda.
Mystic Ink Plus Oct 2018
From where it began
Hen or Egg

Why do we ignore
The same thing
So easily
So many times

The moment
A mother gives birth to her child
The same moment
That child gives birth to the mother

Never before
Anyone called her
What the new born calls

A new career
Mother
Genre: Abstract
Theme: Make it simple
Bison May 2016
Three sugars. No cream.
Stuck inside a 4 A.M. Dream
And there's nothing I can't do
Is the sky really black or just dark blue?

No cars, no souls save preying police
Their lights burn red and scream, "Freeze!"
And the night obliges
For it is not so mighty

Glass half full, still starving
Clouds overmind work their sky carving
Of all my favorite fluffy animals
Are vampires iron deficient cannibals?

The sun soon breaks like an egg on the edge
And the dream skitters light spiders from my head
Eyes pressed to withered pillow sheathing
Is this morning or deeper evening?

Am I waking from the dreaming
Or am I sleeping next to coffee steaming?
Butch Decatoria Jul 2018
A Noun: The oblong: a thing:

The name of that lounge : a place

By the face of the strange shaped lake...

Dinosaur Egg / oval / green grapes.

An Adj.: Oblong Longboard

That’s such the coolest name

A person: Not a thing

oval shaped .

Mr. Ellipsis made no complaints

About tiny alien ant farms

“From Outer Space!”

The natives made to *****.

Oblong grew his beard out

After the sideburns days

Mr. Ellipsis far far away


Fires of the Sun

Will not discern—when

The Light returns

The wyrm will burn .

In oblong throes of defeat.

At peace : A Verb.
She stood, amidst tutts, wore a mini skirt...
(From the first decade).  Took a
Step forward, pioneering the teenager
Long fair hair, parted mid section
Cascading over her cherry cupcakes
Remembering first impressions aren't always
Accurate, they still berated her without
Knowing her.  First appearances were all
They knew and could rely on...back then
Why would she wear a skirt so short if
Respectability meant anything, closed off
They too had been judged, time dulling
Their posture straight backed.  Space lacked
Room to be filled with meanderings of another
Era, balancing her book atop red curls and
Speckled egg skin.  Recalling the longing
Admiration of someone who dared to wear
Their inner choice on the outside
laura May 2018
Ooo! Wee!

Ya got it on my armpit and hair
from my belly, I think you sings it from an egg
the push and pull, the truth and dare
rain-bead pearled in cloudlight bed
was it something I said? Or touched?

All my ex liked to talk about is ***
and wild intricacies like wow, buddy
I'm right here kinda spunky and funny
but his receptacle and receptacle-ees
aren't that interesting to me
oh god this trended
Métis, Themis, Ma’at, their banter was for naught.
All the tides and tithings wisdoms and their teachings, Daemonium forgot!

But the heavens cry  manna as Nix cried out reprieve!
An act that loosed the flood, the chaos of her sea.

Her pain arose a champion to tend to all her needs,
Formed of Celestial Ocean he bore down on the freed.

A giant wave of madness, thrusting mist of sadness eradicating gladness... One led the ruthless breed.

Opaque in their beginning, formless shapes in twining.
Conjoined but not together, accompanied the weather.
Thalassa’s stringy tether wrapped them all forever.

Come or go in seasons, live or die in age.
No Spring to Fall in reasons, travailing of the mage?
Black tentacles the streamers, rooted into wave.
Witness the all-wise and snaking phantom phage...

Chiron watches while he prances, his dressage on the shore.
Arising liminal of beings wettened ambiguity of yore.
Even Iblis is impressed, such black rotten to the core!

Merkabah or egg, mountain, belly, tree they squabble.
All elements do I cobble, such are actions of the wobble.
spacewalker Sep 2017
I have my grocery list in my hand,
a pack of razor blades
a gallon of bleach
a bottle of *****
an egg
I have my grocery list in my hand,
but I am listless.

Sometimes I ***** a smile
when my dog wakes me up with his kisses
Sometimes I make eggs
for him, of course,
I would never waste them on myself
With this list, I'm gone
I make my dog eggs and me a bath
For me, bleach, *****, razor
soon to be listless no more
I open the bottle and welcome the burn
at first, I really hated how it had no clear flow but it kind of captures the sense of pointlessness and awkwardness  I was trying to portray
Matterhorn Dec 2018
He awoke.

His eyes opened slowly with a purposeful slowness; an action that for most people is the beginning of their life was, for him, a procrastination.

He arose.

The floor felt cold, unwelcoming as he stumbled reluctantly to the sink. The bristles rasped against his teeth, gums bleeding out of spite.

He entered.

Breakfast—a lonely egg, boring toast—entered his body; each bite was scooped with the utilitarian vigor of one who is no longer enchanted by food, yet the relationship must continue because of a compulsory marriage without option for divorce. This discomfort washed down with lemon-water.

He contemplated.

Thoughts, those musings that are feared, condemned by most and yet became the greatest of comforts for him, reminded him that one day it all would end and he would be free.

He wasted.

He stretched out his hands, offering up his life force in the daily sacrifice to the eager god that, in return, lit up with the brightness of a thousand stars that blinded him from all that he wished not to see.

He showered.

Cold water ran down his soul, icing the most superficial inflammations while taunting the deepest wounds; no matter how long he remained behind the curtain, there would be no true respite.

He returned.

The blackness beckoned. He entered willingly, surrendering himself to the dark embrace of the demon that he loved above all the others.

He died, once again.
© Ethan M. Pfahning 2018
patty m Nov 2014
Outside my garden wall, traffic swishes, yet in this place of rock and sand, cool moss and good earth, I lose myself in reflection.

secret shadow land
my deeper self plants firmly
spreading family roots


bird feeder robbers
springing from the sweet gum tree
three playful squirrels

even in chill air
splashing sounds twitter loudly
when birds come to bathe

Precious relics are buried here. Baby teeth collected by the tooth fairy, a tiny lock of baby's hair symbolic of her first haircut.
Crystals, quartz,  a single silver button, and spider webs gossamer as silk

lines drawn in the sand
speak a language all their own
whispering softly.

Autumn days warm as butter quickly change to chilly nights.  
While I, a contented cat enjoy a cornucopia of earthy colors and pungent scents; Chrysanthemums, lilies and wheat, surrounded by harvest candles, their flickering teases shadow as it dances across the wall.
*
Mums and marigolds
help to brighten hearth and heart
mini-suns glowing

Happiness is abandoned nests, the fledglings gone having found their wings.  For now I'll claim them and set them among the stone elves and tiny pumpkins.


One perfect blue egg
alone in deserted nest
dreaming it can fly

Wind's echoing rasp meets soft night's descent sending eveyone closer to the fire.  It's too early for snow, but the scent is in the air.  A polar vortex is what they're calling this fast exchange from fall to winter chill.  

*
outside the windows
tree monsters flail their limbs
lashing and thrashing

Little eyes are getting sleepy.  Time for prayers and a bedtime story, then kisses as she's tucked warmly into bed.


as today concludes
I sit alone with my thoughts
sipping strong black tea

unconscious bounty
poem seedlings blossoming
grace a tired mind


sleep and renewal
met with a dusting of snow
on the evergreens.


Even as I clear away snow from the sidewalks, the birds gather hoping for my gift of peanuts and bread. .  
Feathered friends you know when I open the door, all gathering to sing your morning songs from the eves and bushes.  
Your joyousness is contagious and I too hum a song enjoying the crisp feel of the cold. .

Glorious new day
the rapture of whiteness sings
hymns of renewal
*
Tiny footprints trail
disappearing in bushes
softly fluttering
Haibun is a form that includes diary entries and haiku to further enhance the moment.  This is a repost but I've amended certain segments and added more haiku.  To all who read me, I say thank you for your comments and thoughts.  I hope you enjoy my small snapshots of time and vision.  
big hugs
Patty
It can be Frustrating to look so mean
When Success presents your Certificate
And Honest Fans some to most turn so Green
When their Tangent Voices are celibate
Now my only Say to unsoak the Blame
Is when that Sponge within Speaks without Words
You know it as HEART; That Character sane,
Serene discharge of Flavoured Bees and Birds
Even when Flowers rebel and Worms spit
Still your Compassion can embrace them all
Believe this: In, to Out, Around and Fit
Past the Royal Egg survive a Great Fall.
It's been there in you; And all of this Time
My Lesson to learn from Wise Owls behind.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
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