"enlarging" poems
Blossoming shrubs
enveloping pubs
not a cloud in the sky
budding am I
Malaga in September
weather I'll remember
29 degrees and counting
each day it seems to be mounting
I'm not liking the creepy crawlies
giving me the heebie jeebies
to everyone's delight
I squeal in fright
Spanish are fine
until behind them in line
no problem pushing
with choice adjectives I'm gushing
My muscles are loving the heat
I can even touch my feet
my back thinks its in heaven
my shoulder readily rev-ing
Still a week to go
my tan a no-show
this sunbathing is hard work
in the shade my husband lurks
Batteries are charging
my stomach's enlarging
relaxation is seeping into my pores
lullabies, each others snores
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 5:04 PM UTC
~
*prelude.
did you know that English stands alone as a written language requiring the capitalization of the word "I"... yet makes no similar provision for “we” or “us; a sad statement of self inflation. it was after learning this that i abandoned the rule in my own poetry.*
~
my i’s averted,
lowered, diverted,
reduced in size,
an exercise of
large proportions;
breaking down the me-isms,
finding room for we-isms,
to take the larger place;
create an i for seeing,
the case for simple,
smaller being;
no need to punctuate,
instead eliminate this
compulsion to inflate;
’tis my i-drop moment,
my i-reducing ointment,
these pupils are dilated,
deflating i and me,
enlarging we and thee;
finding that in i-reduction,
the eyes are widely opened,
thus to better see,
what i really need to be.
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 12:49 PM UTC
1068
Further in Summer than the Birds
Pathetic from the Grass
A minor Nation celebrates
Its unobtrusive Mass.
No Ordinance be seen
So gradual the Grace
A pensive Custom it becomes
Enlarging Loneliness.
Antiquest felt at Noon
When August burning low
Arise this spectral Canticle
Repose to typify
Remit as yet no Grace
No Furrow on the Glow
Yet a Druidic Difference
Enhances Nature now
1.9k
My mind is a muscle....
A muscle that needs to be exercised, quite often.
Daily Intense Workouts Shall Strengthen this muscle.
Enlarging it....
Making it quite Powerful.......
Never allowing this important muscle to fall to the
Shrunken Condition of "Weak and pitiful."
"jogging" down the streets which are the "books, of life's Experiences"
"pumping the irons" of the "Weight" that "Problems Needing to Be Solved"
Push on the limits which this muscle can "pump" and "endure"
I always "keep this muscle well toned" Running quickly, holding tightly, and
Stretching Its limits of what my "muscle" can "hold."
I hold a smile on my facee As I excercise my "mind" to a stronger Future.
Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 4:28 AM UTC
Above clouds that hide the earth
from the stars: slowly the receding city
breaking up into plots, dotted around
patches of green and winding rivulets:
that distant fire slicing through mists
this winter morning like a lamp lighted
to the skies; Thoughts emerging from
receding memories, reversed numbers
of the tailgating truck's plate on my mirror
that misty morning, receding skyline
riding into the frost in many shades
of grey cast on the car speeding past;
Giant eye of the fair: the same phantasm
emerging, enlarging, dimming, receding;
Hall of dreams in a castle of darkness:
waves of events playing out again and
in smoke and shadows amid resounding
chambers, a costume and a drama, a role
you reprise again, dreamed of your past,
approaching and receding, breaking
everything, my heart; that wanton night;
The fair is up, one broken slipper of a pair,
half-buried cup, corks, shimmering
trinkets, withered roses, pecking birds,
circling again and again; that distant fire
dimmed into the clouds, all now smoken
moss-pale around; We take off now.
Welcome to your flight to never-land
this morning, we serve you breakfast
and hot tea. Inverted numbers playing
in my head, some approaching deadline.
Net, 10 I tell myself, enin, thgie...eno..eno..
Dec 17, 2012
Dec 17, 2012 at 6:31 AM UTC
I WALKED among the streets of an old city and the streets were lean as the throats of hard seafish soaked in salt and kept in barrels many years.
How old, how old, how old, we are:-the walls went on saying, street walls leaning toward each other like old women of the people, like old midwives tired and only doing what must be done.
The greatest the city could offer me, a stranger, was statues of the kings, on all corners bronzes of kings-ancient bearded kings who wrote books and spoke of God's love for all people-and young kings who took forth armies out across the frontiers splitting the heads of their opponents and enlarging their kingdoms.
Strangest of all to me, a stranger in this old city, was the murmur always whistling on the winds twisting out of the armpits and fingertips of the kings in bronze:-Is there no loosening? Is this for always?
In an early snowflurry one cried:-Pull me down where the tired old midwives no longer look at me, throw the bronze of me to a fierce fire and make me into neckchains for dancing children.
1.3k
The Drummer Brothers of Ikku Ukku
Heard from the bathers that-
The Princess had been abducted
By the Dark Beast.
A bounty of thousand gold coins was announced
If you brought her back alive and the beast dead
And Death if you brought the beast alive and the Princess dead.
The Drummer Brothers of Ikku Ukku
Hung their drums around their necks
And drummed their way
Through the Forest Dark
When the Elder Brother drummed the sleep-inducing roll,
The storks that roosted in the trees
Dropped as if they were one big bunch.
He picked them up one by one
While the younger one,
Elated,
Shouted 'Pelicans!' and drummed the defeathering roll
Upon which the plumage came off
The Elder Brother drummed the roasting roll
And the birdflesh caught fire.
On the second day a leopard that looked-
More like a boulder in leopard's clothing
Lurched at the brothers.
The Elder Brother drummed the age-reversing roll
And the poor old leopard grew younger and younger
Until it became a watery foetus which-
The Drummer Brothers ate,
Dabbing crushed chillies, and sprinkling salt.
On the third day a bear of grisly proportions
Ambled, roaring, into their sight
The Younger Brother drummed an organ-enlarging roll that-
Stretched the bear's mammaries far too long-
They dragged on the ground like two pythons.
The Elder Brother drummed the light-the- candle roll
And the oily **** caught fire like wicks.
Having vanquished the two deadly beasts
The Drummer Brothers of Ikku Ukku met,
On the fourth day of their journey,
The Dark Beast.
The Dark Beast, as it turned out,
Was no beast as such
But an Outcast once expelled
Into the heart of darkness
Who wrapped himself
In the dark of the Dawn
And became one with All the Beasts
And rumbled.
The Princess' pygmy horse was impaled
With the stake coming out of its mouth
Grossly gory, its hindlegs missing
And the blood, coagulated, hanging like icicles.
Near it was the Princess herself,
Naked, except for the gold waist chain
And the anklets.
The Drummer Brothers of Ikku Ukku
Drummed a very ordinary roll,
Steady and throbbing.
The Dark Beast who listened to it
Was transported into his past,
His memory of listening
To the old drummers of Ikku Ukku.
Excited,
He spun on his heels and stretched out his arms
He gyrated and pirouetted-
And on reaching the peak of his frenzy
Exploded, like a watermelon
The pieces flew in all directions.
The Drummer Brothers picked them up
And licked
While the Princess, shaken out of her languor,
Rose and sauntered towards them.
Holding out her honey hands
She said, "Now I belong to both of you."
The Younger Brother came up with a plan:
The elder one would have her from the waist up
While he would have her from the waist down.
The Elder Brother approved.
Vain and coquettish,
The Princess rammed her fists into either drum
And said: "I loathe their sound- too unrefined."
On the fifth day,
The Drummer Brother drummed a jazzed up roll
On their new drumhead
Made of the Princess' hide.
Jul 24, 2020
Jul 24, 2020 at 6:15 AM UTC
I was on a bomb site
off Meadow Row
with Helen
searching for small stones
for my catapult
she had her doll
Battered Betty
in one hand
and was looking at the ground
through her thick lens glasses
how small do
they have to be?
she said
about this size
I said
showing her
with my thumb and finger
we searched amongst the bricks
and rubble and bits
of wood and weeds
is this small enough?
she said
picking up a stone
and putting it
in the palm
of her small hand
I went to her
and gazed at it
and picked it up
and said
yes that's about right
and put it in a small pouch
made from an old handkerchief
tied together
and tied to the belt
around my blue jeans
how many stones
do you need?
she said
because Betty
is getting hungry
and I will have to
feed her soon
with the bottle
in my dress pocket
o about a handful
I said
just a few more
ok
she said
and we looked on
Betty hanging
from Helen's hand
by her tiny hand
just then a copper
walked across the bomb site
from the New Kent Road
trudging at his own pace
towards us
Helen saw him first
and stood up
and clutched Betty
close towards her chest
her eyes large
and scared looking
I stood up and put
my hands in the pockets
of my blue jeans
you ought not to be
on bomb sites
he said
they're dangerous places
Helen opened her mouth
to speak
but nothing came
but air
we're collecting stones
for my catapult
I said
he stood upright
with his hands on his hips
staring at us both
I don't care
if you're collecting gems
for Her Majesty the Queen
I want you off now
and to go home
he said
his voice firm and baritone
only I need ammunition
I said
and this is the best
place for them
off and go home
he said peering at me
his eyes dark and enlarging
Helen was nigh
wetting herself
so I shrugged and said
ok but we'll be back
once you've gone
Helen stared at me
as if I'd passed wind
GO NOW
he bellowed
pigeons flew up and off
from the bomb site
at the sound
we walked off
the bomb site together
she looking ahead
eyes tearful
I gazing back
like I'd seen this cowboy do
in that Western film
before a gunfight
I'd seen with my old man
the previous night.
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 2:04 AM UTC
Did you grow up thinking a streak of black ink across your eyelids
would make you feel better about yourself
Did you grow up thinking fake lashes
would make someone fall in love with you a little more
Did you grow up thinking eye-enlarging contact lenses
would make someone look at you any differently
Did you grow up thinking a bottle of liquified foundation
would make you hide away all the things you hate about yourself
Did you grow up thinking a tube of cheap gloss
would make your self esteem increase by leaps and bounds
Did you grow up thinking that learning how to apply mascara
would make you the pretty woman you deserve to feel like
Did you grow up thinking a size zero on that dress
would make you feel like you have it all?
Or did you grow up asking yourself
When will I start accepting me, for me?
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 5:35 AM UTC
My Greatest Love
Stacked or filling your vision with promise of yet experienced passion and unforgettable delights
The warm embrace you evoke in deepest contours of the heart mind and soul ever turning
Anticipation running fingers down your spine knowing the volumes you speak in the quiet nights
Ever suggestive you spill out onto the floor with great patience you just lay in a comfortable pose
Your beauty attested by scholars and men of taste the world over your hominess held in regard
You travel with such light agility you fit in so well able to go unnoticed ever constant and faithful
With quickest wit you rise to ever situation conservation in yourself you stand as a true vanguard
Wealth you give from boundless pages that stir concepts and ideas with a burning that never diminish
Some say with the passing of time you are being left behind out distanced by more sophisticated ideals
Try as they may tried and true goes the distance when others vanish you always spell undying grace
The test has been proven time and time again you endure always new you free inhibition truth you seal
Without question my heart deepens in your grand presence you tell of worlds to be visited rest is found
To you I make a vow as then the years have only increased my interest no matter what your condition
I will be true make adjustments when necessary maybe enlarging your words to be better defined
Your gifts in youth they have emboldened me they were the structure I needed a sure sound foundation
In opening the cover I see why I have loved and always will love you my ever faithful books.
Jan 9, 2012
Jan 9, 2012 at 12:01 AM UTC
And really I am asking the men
at what point do you get fed up
with e-mails
about
enlarging your *****
I get them all the time
eight are from
my girl friend
but it is the two
from my Mom
that really hurt.
Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 4:26 PM UTC
In the month that I popped a pharmaceutical drug to feel better,
I smiled for the first time in months
at a lame joke,
I stopped worrying
about where I was going to be
if the zombie apocalypse was to happen,
I ceased feeling terrified
of waking up to the voice of Joey Ramone
to not want to be or feel anymore,
I wondered how Hemingway felt
as he stared at the glittering city lights of the Rive Gauche,
typing down his dark thoughts,
I walked to the blinking white silhouette of a tiny person across the street,
without hoping that the cars would magically skewer to the side
and consequentially crush my skull in,
I felt my heart enlarging like a balloon, while I stared into
his magnetic eyes,
that remind me of the glistening candlelit lights of Paris
after the war,
I craved the chocolate ice cream
my imaginary little brother bought me
while annoying me,
I listened to the world
and heard it's rambles and jangles
and knew that "every little thing is gonna be alright",
and I watch myself in the mirror
to realize that I
this person staring back at me is a shell
enveloping in the shock at my utter disbelief
that I don't know who I am anymore.
Perhaps somewhere out there,
in a parallel universe,
wherein lies reality or fantasy,
I have already given up
and is watching me here
to mock me.
Nov 22, 2011
Nov 22, 2011 at 1:29 AM UTC
There's a wall being built between you and I,
and no amount of sledge hammers can knock it down.
The foundation that once kept us bound together, now keeps us miles apart.
You stare at it with glassy eyes and an empty heart,
while I sit here, screaming inside...
Wondering how I didn't notice this distance between us enlarging, until it was too late.
My tears fell into the concrete mixture along with the lost memories,
that have now dried in between the bricks.
There's nothing I can do but watch, as you and I
loose each other to a stone wall, as cold as your heart.
Apr 22, 2013
Apr 22, 2013 at 9:11 AM UTC
People are too concerned
with self, said Father Higgs.
His aged face as if hewn from
Rock, sat before you on broad
shoulders, the lips labouring
with the words. Too much
worried how self will feel,
how self will benefit. He
hunched forward, his large
eyes moving over you like
tired slugs. The symbol of
the cross, he said with a
movement of his head, is to
cut through the I, the sign
of the self. You noticed one
high brow, grey, larger than
the other, hair in nose like
insects in hiding. He breathed
out deeply. Self denial is
the essence of the message
of Christ, he said, a left
inclination of his head, his
teeth (not his own) large
and discoloured. You wanted
to ask questions, but he raised
a hand. The word I is stated
too often in conversations,
he said, or self too much
brought in as myself or herself
or himself or such as may be
used in talk. You understood
this was his way of lecturing.
His black monastic habit was
stained about the neck by food
or dribble or dried up phlegm.
We ought to be concerned with
others, he stated, wheezing, face
reddening, eyes enlarging. Where
is my inhaler? he wheezed, I really
must be off, this smoker’s cough,
my poor old lungs, must get myself
a stronger inhaler and he was off,
out of the common room he had
caught you in some hour back.
All you saw was his hand and inhaler
and departing monastic habit of black.
Jul 9, 2012
Jul 9, 2012 at 1:58 AM UTC
I could hear it coming
along the contours
picking up footsteps
trampling over flower beds
trees forced
bending backwards
drawing blood
from lined throats;
Roaring wind
whiskers shaking
sharp teeth
stripes expanding;
Iris still
no enlarging
a silent witness
flickering
emotions.
Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 10:11 PM UTC
a portrait dodged on my mind
spotted and retouched
silhouetted in the grainy penumbra
a soft-focus smile with a motion blur
at the edges of the mouth
where the fixer could not hold
candid grey card hand pushing the negative
framed by the infrared cautions
my perspective agitated in my stomach
a stop bath of underdeveloped words
like a graveyard for my depth of field
those muted views from your apartment door
solarized in the albumen light of our distance
a carte-de-visite from your camera obscura
rapping on my ribcage like my heart is
enlarging and must be cropped
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 9:25 PM UTC
Is she mad?
No, not mad...
DESTROYED.
A dark shadow; hidden.
Only an outline can be seen, a figure that looked nothing short of deadly.
Stalking her target as a cat would stalk her prey.
Observing, plotting, waiting...
She sniffs out her victim.
Enlarging her pupils to an inhuman degree.
Quickly, she changes vantage points as her object of affection slowly faded into the night.
An evil grin overtakes her face and distorts her features.
She admits a low chuckle.
Her rage and desire for revenge was all she had.
Everything that made her who she was snatched from her under the cover of night.
Visions of his lustful eyes still sting her skin.
Sleeplessly, she lies there. Eyes wide.
A tear slowly curls and pools in the corner of her eye.
The nightmares and flashbacks never fade.
Lies were all that bound their love,
Her truth and her truth alone could not withhold him.
The color in her face diminished,
The twinkle in her eye did not shine any longer.
For she only allowed her beauty to be found within him.
But now....
He was gone.
She gazed at the bruises that seemed to crawl up her arms,
Pacing back and forth for several hours at a time....
Her feet grew numb and mind became cold.
No light ever reached the room where she resided,
No sound entered, nor departed.
Her existence was far from reality.
Jan 8, 2011
Jan 8, 2011 at 3:25 PM UTC
*There are many
and it seems
few which intersect..
Those which meet
soon dismissed and
enter the mist..
A new duality
my story and yours..
What if there is
only One Story
those in mist
are still joined..
In that mist
The Odyssey and
Cold Mountain
are found joined..
In our reading
from that mist
we retrieve..
Enlarging our story
changing our Name...*
Oct 13, 2013
Oct 13, 2013 at 11:17 AM UTC
Quietly, ordinarily, and without heralds
It arrives, and you know—the truly good;
And you run after it, to fully grasp and hear
Not in full understanding yet, but it feeds,
Every moment: ever richer, ever illuminating,
Ever the more profound; mutually enlarging
All that's heard and known darkly from before
And Life! ever the brighter, the exalted, and the unspeakable!
Dec 31, 2024
Dec 31, 2024 at 11:17 PM UTC
Vastly and taken, among us
We walk alone
As have we always
And shall we continue
Our minds aren't always
As silenced as we should be
We listen and evaluate,
As if its our job, to gain the knowledge of you
To figure you out.
To know our jobs of further corruption.
Against anyone and everyone
And we watch, as to gain power
To know what to do to make you ***** inhabitants of our mother earth live in fear and restlessness.
We are the control
You, our puppets
We decide if and when to free you from your strings
Only attached to crosses as
To represent religion
Falling far from it in your falling out with a god, after being cut
Only to figure out you knew nothing of what religion really stood for
Because after all? Who really knows?
But us.
We are complete control. Learn to obey and get into our rythm of speaking, so you lip it, they think its opinions.
We.the collectors.
Gathering stars
In an infinity of black charred sky.
We must add color to our canvas.
We, gathering your glass tears in our paper jars
Throwing them to the sky.
So you'll forever remember mourned loved ones until you become that as well.
And you think stars are some beautiful representation of life, we all burn out.
Some might be.
Tears of joy. Proposal on a sunny day. A new family. Warm and fuzzy memories for you to store.
But to collectors, stars are to remind you
That even in a black nothing land
There is still suffering.
The sun isn't getting closer
But only bigger and still enlarging rapidly
As there will always be pain
And suffering
Tragedy in great masses.
Broken hearts.
Stars are to show remembrance in bad times.
What else is there out in the cold of space?
You don't know.
Exactly.
You know nothing of what is to come.
Of what you are to become.
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 2:22 AM UTC
In week I’m turning twenty,
A time to end my childhood,
Numerically.
Even aesthetically,
As my face needs closer shaving,
And my body starts enlarging.
My limbs start aching,
And I can’t stay up as late as I want to,
Because sleep is now important,
Not just something impromptu.
Life lessons have gotten tougher,
Harder to see,
Without the blindfold
That childhood held on my eyes.
And the people around me have changed,
No longer innocent
No longer the same.
Having time to build a history,
With mistakes that may long last,
Sometimes its harder to accept them,
When I’m not part of their past.
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 12:21 AM UTC
Our Goddess and Our Beast
come together for a feast
Delight in fur and fangs
that neither ask to change
***He gentles in her gaze
Enlarging her embrace
Inhale his scent so true
Earth Essence through and through***
Together now complete
a plan divinely sweet
Jan 4, 2013
Jan 4, 2013 at 11:15 PM UTC
I am "The Incredible Aging Man"
Aging right before your eyes
Something that I plan to continue to do
Until the day it is I died
Watch as the wrinkles magically appear
In the most unlikely of places
See the thinning of hair, the enlarging of ears
The forgetfulness of where I last placed it
Learn how to use your patience
As over time I am losing mine
Using familiar phrases like it'll be okay
And your going to be just fine
Show up with your loud voices
As my hearing starts to wain
And feel free to read letters to me
As my eye sight does the same
Listen in as I moan and groan
When weak in the knees I bend and buckle
Come with me on the day they put me away
As I become increasingly befuddled
Sit with me here as into the distance I stare
Forgetting now who it is I am
I do so hope you enjoy the show
Of this "The Incredible Aging Man"
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 2:32 PM UTC
Four poles, four people, and I have four corners.
The color in me is red with a white background.
People like my colorful side, so they like me outside.
The strife of words has a momentary fragrance.
My simplicity requires the exclusivity of life.
My first fold is rather simple,
Closing the doors to my white side
And revealing my colorful side.
My second fold is mythical,
Making me smaller while enlarging my weight.
My third fold is about keeping myself.
My fourth fold presents me to the whole world with layers.
Before my fifth fold,
I must fold myself into diamond and open up.
The last fold makes me lenient.
Now, I am a boat,
Discovering myself in this ocean.
Jan 17, 2025
Jan 17, 2025 at 2:21 PM UTC
"Mad World"
All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head, I wanna drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow
And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very mad world, mad world
Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
And I feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me
And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very mad world, mad world
Enlarging your world
-Mad world-
Nov 18, 2014
Nov 18, 2014 at 7:10 AM UTC