"fracas" poems
I have seen her a stealthily frail
flower walking with its fellows in the death
of light,against whose enormous curves of flesh
exactly cubes of tiny fragrance try;
i have watched certain petals rapidly wish
in the corners of her youth;whom,fiercely shy
and gently brutal, the prettiest wrath
of blossoms dishevelling made a pale
fracas upon the accurate moon….
Across the important gardens her body
will come toward me with its hurting ****** smell
of lilies….beyond night’s silken immense swoon
the moon is like a floating silver hell
a song of adolescent ivory.
7.6k
Ganders...gargantua--ensconced in far-fetched space...
(attrition)...LOOK AT THAT LINE...LOOK AT IT...
ROUND THE CORNERS OF PERPETUITY...predilections.
A soul's inalienable fracas...on bend and knee...hop...and
whoop...miasmic gargoyles poppy-wreathed...
for all-too-lucid dreaming...chanting etceteras of bare riff raffs.
Golden breastplates...weeping willow wings...empurpled--
fending fang trumping lines of: yuck, cluck, claw and kook.
...Listless eyes...alphabetize...think a blind oracle's informed
absentia...holy and bovine.
Redolent airs...perspiration of spume's most distancing shore--
eyepieces for the specks and logs in the oculos of brothers
and sisters.
As dust to dust doth not settle...heart's yonder score...nay cease
of interstice...off-world amorousness.
Gather ye yarrow sticks...hurl them at days...roofless arcady...
live into the spectra of their worlds, come friend or foe...Fate's foundling.
Lines strung as prayer beads...curs-ed beads...forget-me-nots
enclosed in letters baiting Long Farewells, in the great literary
correspondence of authored and Author.
...Ye gorgeous gargoyles come perch and push.
Persona non grata...the wide world...unisex prodigal...All--returneth.
LOOK AT THAT LINE...LOOK AT IT...(attrition)...ROUND THE
CORNERS OF PERPETUITY.
NEBULAEIC FANFARE...come perch to push...lo...ANGELS!
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 12:35 PM UTC
When I was stationed at Enoggera, as a young platoon sergeant with 9 RAR, a Merino ram was offered, and accepted, as the Battalion mascot. The diggers called him Stan. The brigade RSM of the time was outraged because he viewed our adoption of Stan as a direct and improper play on his surname, which was Lamb. And, of course, he being as bald as a coot the diggers called him Curly. As I recall, Stan was a lively, ill disciplined beast with little respect for the niceties of service life, hence:
When Stan-the-Ram met Curly Lamb a fracas did ensue.
For Curly stood beside the road just outside B.H.Q.;
His Sam Brown belt so shiny, his pace-stick 'neath one arm,
The RSM of our brigade was used to war's alarm.
But Stan, although a raw recruit and barely chewing grass,
Unimpressed by Curly, charged and knocked him on his ****
"It's contact rear" cried Curly, as he struggled to his feet,
Turned about with arms akimbo his assailant for to meet.
Meanwhile Stan's poor handler looked ready to desert
'cos Stan-the-Ram whilst in his care had Curly eating dirt.
I guess he felt embarrassed, which was natural, wouldn't you?
If involved in such a fracas outside of BHQ.
Your questions are but natural and in answer I can swear,
As these events unfolded I was marching off the square.
Having Just dismissed defaulters I was feeling rather mean
But my despondency was lifted by that ****** glorious scene.
And in the mess that evening rang out laughter clear and loud,
For I'd told them all my story and of Stan we felt quite proud.
There was Sutherland and Massingham, and Peter Cowan too
And Tim Daly called **** Gordon from his room, well, wouldn't you?
And when **** heard my story he poured port into a glass,
And we drank a toast to Stanly putting Curly on his ****
Mar 10, 2019
Mar 10, 2019 at 1:45 AM UTC
Prerogative presumptive judicature, cantankerous cantilever capacity. Paradoxical dichotomy greaves, gauntlets gamut catalyst abstracts, asymmetrical symmetry. Objectified manifest's dimensional delineation, intrinsic endemic innate opaque opulence. Protractive analyses accidence ambience acoustics. Spatiotemporal telemetry tactician's trajectory extant.
Prophylaxis protocol annex annul. Kinesiology kleptomaniac extraversion embezzlement euthanasia extortion, embark embargo extradition. Aura roan's rainbow mare's nimbus nimiety exorcism. Corporeally preternatural's existential exigence exodus. Cerebral cortex's ****** matrix's carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character charisma, apex axis crux, exponentially extemporaneous manumission. Categorical imperative hubris, hectic duty deontological probity.
Astral projection's clairaudience clairvoyance. Tenets and principles, maxims and axioms, and doctrinal mandates. Exserted protuberance's edifice ******** Exotically ****** ethereally sublime xylem Xanadu sails. Erotica erectile errantry.
Fulham nuance ***** Formidable foundry of a foyer fracas. Harpy harsh hast, atrium attrition seditious. Oak tree ****** nails swarthy ******** swath swizzles and unicorn railway sails. Anchor pin tachometer troll wood harlotry's root clod rudiments, lightning bow hat pick. Transcendent nimbus nimiety exorcist. Transpicuous translucence alluvium aloof impunity.
Feb 21, 2021
Feb 21, 2021 at 10:07 PM UTC
velveteen ruins cluster hush the horizon
smearing dusk and warp across the frog croak fracas
of the outer wilderness, where the buildings disassemble
the domiciles of dank and drab. where no maidens
await rescue. just the desolate hub
of wilt and bane. towers felled by iron claws
and engines of rake and drain. our progressive diaspora
of un-living things. the faint jewelery of our banshee
before swine.
dead of night prone... while reading ' Confessions Of A Hope Fiend '
we are leery of our tiny Thames
but dredge our Vistas
for humming
bugs.
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 12:31 PM UTC
Here I am
Walking softly through a lake of shale
Slipping down a hill
Tripping the pieces against each other
Tearing my feet up
Reaching scraping and stratching arms and legs
Over the berry bushes
Stretching for a few ****** drops of **** sweet juice
Wetting my lips and staining my fingers
Robins and bluejays flying overhead, a soft grey bird
Shyly quietly watching
Watching the fracas of the bejeweled and gaudy birds
And their screeching cries
Watching and listening with quiet fearful timidity
Much like me
Nov 22, 2012
Nov 22, 2012 at 6:25 PM UTC
A pebble to a mountain;
from waterfall to the sea;
What a beauty of nature,
we have obtained just for free.
Fragrance of flowers,
buzzing of the bees;
Glistening of snow,
mystical sight of horizon.
Our Earth,itself is a heaven;
Angels are the birds,
Brownies are the animals of sizes,
We on the earth is the real magic.
But far from our world,lies this;
No fracas, no false decoration,
Gift of God is just so different than what we have made it.
So enthusiastic, eye treat,
no ******* full of greenary.
Enthrals you, captivates you in its purity.
Wow, the nature is so natural.
Mar 26, 2016
Mar 26, 2016 at 7:16 AM UTC
in the brief habitual habitat of
your strenuous lily leaps infinitely
to my lips
your strong horizontal aroma .a clean
poesy angling soft heaven a little garden
and i
tend
it
htiw
ym
thuom
a succulent thorn protruding indiscriminately
and you take it up. take it safely. take its hideous
drab voice and muffle it in your elegant song
and
the
base winsome shape of your fracas explodes perpendicular
roses blushing shamelessly in the hard languid chamber
's
clumsy petals stupidly, anon and hither and verily
the husk of *** drips
completely. i drink of your sensual geometry and every cup
full and blasphemous sprints a heavy sweat clasped
sorely muscles breeding contractions
ugly.
but i am but will not be and shortly. only are any of we, so ladle
and depose upon me your hot brutish stink.
Sep 4, 2010
Sep 4, 2010 at 1:06 PM UTC
Involved in a constant fracas with his own self,
On went he to find peace on the road to nowhere
And there again he was deceived by mirages,
Mirages of the paradise world he wanted to be a part of.
And when the picture of the glacial reality surfaced out, he went back in time
For the fear of the glacial reality sent shivers down his spine
He came to a standstill with only barrenness around
And with a thud back he came to the ground
The heart and the mind were seldom in consonance
For the mind had to thwart the heart of its feelings
Feelings, so intense that would involve the payment of penance
The probabilities of the reality surfacing out were as dim as a dark desert night
For the words had been well concealed in the surreptitious corners of his soul.
The bone-chilling cold of the desert would succor his heart of the fight
Is he on his own or will he have someone to make him feel whole?
When the mind loses its mammoth battle with the heart
The reality,sweet as honey, would come to existence and lose its sole essence
A catastrophe would then descend
Only the Heavens know the repercussions it would have
Maybe there'd be a silver lining in his eternal dark clouds.
Oct 15, 2013
Oct 15, 2013 at 2:42 PM UTC
Le pré est vénéneux mais joli en automne
Les vaches y paissant
Lentement s'empoisonnent
Les colchiques couleur de cerne et de lilas
Y fleurit tes yeux sont comme cette fleur-là
Violâtres comme leur cerne et comme cet automne
Et ma vie pour tes yeux lentement s'empoisonne
Les enfants de l'école viennent avec fracas
Vêtus de hoquetons et jouant de l'harmonica
Ils cueillent les colchiques qui sont comme des mères
Filles de leurs filles et sont couleur de tes paupières
Qui battent comme les fleurs battent au vent dément
Le gardien du troupeau chante tout doucement
Tandis que lentes et meuglant les vaches abandonnent
Pour toujours ce grand pré mal fleuri par l'automne.
1.1k
the guy on the walk,
beside the road
stopped to gawk,
spoke to goad
every car that
drove by, every
person walking
past, as he spoke
they moved fast-
er to get past.
Or be caught
up in the fracas
with the man with
baggy pants, spoke
to fire hydrants,
and spoke to the
telephone poles,
in a language they
had never heard,
but now my house
is silent and closing
in it is time to go out
in to the chaos of
the city streets
a fracas needs to
move his feet, and
feed his hunger
a blood thirsty disease
dietary fracas one
encounter at a time
three times daily
taken with water or rain.
Beware of the clown who
has not a painted face.
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 1:50 AM UTC
Day after day
I kept on
Stacking those phrases
And I created a different
Glossary In my mind
Of unwarranted thoughts
Floating in some other place
Seeking attention
Being ignored
Wailing for approval
Rejected innumerably
Creating a hassle in my mind
A fracas among those letters
Causing dementia
But it's me myself
The bone of contention
Of these unattended
Lies.
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 3:26 AM UTC
A sheep and a goat once
Got locked in a fracas
“Off you go!
Don't you know
You are an embodiment
For an idiot!
How dare you trample
On the leaf down
From the stem of an apple
That dangle
And which I was apt
To cut and eat.
I really hate
A sheepish creature of your sort
With alacrity to a dictate
Going to an altar is whose fate
And that no offense on others inflict
Or none contradict.
A wet -blanket
A kill-joy
Or for the witty
A good toy!” said the goat.
Dismayed and sad
The sheep replied
“In a futile bid
To satisfy your greed
With your horn blind
You scratched my feet
And began your complaint
To hoot.
Watch also what
You talk about
On doomsday
The likes of me stand
By the right of
The presiding judge
Jesus Christ.
While the likes of you
Cast to the left
Your lot
You shall lament.
An embodiment
of the devil
Indulge in all evil
It is your wont
Oft to rebel
Also snobbish, than
Labor fault in others to identify
Why don't you try
To see the bar
In your eye?
***** got, I also wonder
How come you care not
Your private part to cover!
You must not
Also forget
It is the addle-pate
Who are prone all to manipulate
And call the poor- folk- in -Christ
An imbecile or
An idiot.
Though
'Don't be a sheep in a goat's age
Is what is encapsulated
In today's adage,
You and I
Will never ever be
On the same page!
An Ethiopian
Will never ever
Change his skin,take note
Nor could a sheep be a goat!”
Aug 19, 2015
Aug 19, 2015 at 2:28 AM UTC
Hold on to sanity
Understand the chaos
The core is stable
Ignore the peripheral fracas
Whirlwind of ideas
Guarded by faulty premises
Nurtured for long
(mis)guided travelers
Listen to the intent
Look beyond the edges
Cacophony of hearts
Drowns the sanity
Hold on little longer
Sanity will prevail
Face the chaos
Trespass the faulty boundaries
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 2:22 PM UTC
Erase the skin on which you wept
Some secrets were not meant to be kept
Flee quick now, before the burn
Let us break it here, before it comes undone.
Yes, it was glory and the life of the light
Yet all things end, like the coming of night
And sometime soon memories will fade
Let us bring dark to the light, **** the shade.
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 1:43 PM UTC
the such my hands(yourstiny)they
,as like rain,
they the their
body itt
e
e
ms
like with
beauty it
sings
singly
it
seems
unseemly
.
Dear it
the cough
your *******
they
point they
coo they
their
fracas is
it soft
does make
hardme to reek
of youth so mad feverishly
i, like coming morning, wash
your valley full
my piercing ray,
i
until do
(as day does
)
break
and hollow fill
the swallowing
of thy hips
( the color of thy bonny
the cherry of your lips )
Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 6:22 PM UTC
Voyager seul est triste, et j'ai passé la nuit
Dans une étrange hôtellerie.
À la plus vieille chambre un enfant m'a conduit,
De galerie en galerie.
Je me suis étendu sur un grand lit carré
Flanqué de lions héraldiques ;
Un rideau blanc tombait à longs plis, bigarré
Du reflet des vitraux gothiques.
J'étais là, recevant, muet et sans bouger,
Les philtres que la lune envoie,
Quand j'ouïs un murmure, un froissement léger,
Comme fait l'ongle sur la soie ;
Puis comme un battement de fléaux sourds et prompts
Dans des granges très éloignées ;
Puis on eût dit, plus près, le han des bûcherons
Tour à tour lançant leurs cognées ;
Puis un long roulement, un vaste branle-bas,
Pareil au bruit d'un char de tôle
Attelé d'un dragon toujours fumant et las,
Qui souffle à chaque effort d'épaule ;
Puis soudain serpenta dans l'infini du soir
Un sifflement lugubre, intense,
Comme le cri perçant d'une âme au désespoir
En fuite par le vide immense.
Or, c'était un convoi que j'entendais courir
À toute vapeur dans la plaine.
Il passa, laissant **** derrière lui mourir
Son fracas et sa rouge haleine.
Le passage du monstre un moment ébranla
Les carreaux étroits des fenêtres,
Fit geindre un clavecin poudreux qui dormait là
Et frémir des portraits d'ancêtres ;
Sur la tapisserie Actéon tressaillit,
Diane contracta les lèvres ;
Un plâtras détaché du haut du mur faillit
Briser l'horloge de vieux sèvres.
Ce fut tout. Le silence aux voûtes du plafond
Replia lentement son aile,
Et la nuit, arrachée à son rêve profond,
Se redrapa plus solennelle.
Mais mon cœur remué ne se put assoupir :
J'écoutais toujours dans l'espace
Cette course effrénée et ce strident soupir,
Image d'un siècle qui passe.
713
sign that says stop
intersect forebode,
to wait until clear,
the air,
the fear,
the sky,
eyes, of those tears,
but what if becomes
cannot stop,
throwing pieces
off like they don't
belong and won't
stick around long
enough to be
reattached to rusted
vestige that used to
be human,
now rust stains
down the face,
empty carcass
after the fracas,
of living like there
was no tomorrow,
came
true.
©DWE102013
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 10:48 PM UTC
every noteless music of this world is a song
exploding fracas in my smallest body lifting
burdened wings broken to stars falling 1x1
into my eye; sort of like the warmest rock
of green bluely visits all of me every days
it falls rising to up under my feet aloft it
i swallow winds breathtakingly sounds of
god touching all my atoms with his cooler
fingers strumming over the strings of each
incredible momentous tedium when i am
doing the dishes in the frailing hammer of
Summer's heat gorgeously nuzzling the lilies
popping up from the richness deeply soil
in the flower bed right next to the porch
droops amazingly the tiredest earth
Aug 5, 2011
Aug 5, 2011 at 1:04 PM UTC
O creators
O makers(O ye, who by hands deftest,
hew the earth with thy hearts
extrapolated)thou art blessed
(and a blessing)
for by the imperfect notions of you
more perfect becomes me
(in me gathers
the coalesced
intensity of
your exact
infinite stuff)and
i
'm thick with your heady music
which bursts out my body
and i'm flung into burning
indomitable human fire
(and i become
like gargantuan
sleeping flowers(whole rivers of them)i become the
hot sigil of the human singing
organ)with drunk beautiful darkness
i sing across the folding eternal
abyss and with merriest volition
i add the coarse sound of my fracas
to the body of the electric people
chorus
(the makers
and the creators
who by pleasing distinct
colorful blades scar
me wonderfully
)
Jan 6, 2012
Jan 6, 2012 at 5:17 PM UTC
"Odoriferous fresh gardenia flowers fragrance was she,
Her beauty will be cultivated forever amongst and beyond,
How does one know if it is love it is more than just a word?
It is a feeling soul bound that fervor’s beneath the skin,
So how do I know it is love if it isn't as the words are procured?
A sense of rising tide a rapid undulant river of a woman,
One cannot be a troglodyte in life when love arrives,
My love has arrived I have felt all the above and much more,
Sheer thoughts of her sends a billow enliven rapture within,
A rush with consternation render’s fervent fracas of piquancy,
I have heeded in life these depictions of the fluttering gusto,
As long as I live this tectonic emotion of this naiad will remain,
Restraints of the days is this prologue to exodus to enclaves,
I turned my back on the capricious sea the euphoria and somber,
Where with a strain and a ****** on the banks of islet sands,
Beauteous day slips in night as the sailing foam drifts afar,
Although I am where I am I will never be perniciously charmed,
Stars will burn for all time as I lament in demanding sadness,
Cursing as a cavalier of false hopes with untethered regret,
For I am not a troglodyte of ages but just an aesthete in love,
Beauty is Culture!”
By Andrew Guzaldo 03/02/2019 ©
Apr 2, 2019
Apr 2, 2019 at 7:29 PM UTC
say numbers the little white toothed
sliver of a grin
hair breathlessly tousled
about fingers stairs
(winding)
upwards constantly
tall moments of absolute singleness
into 4 hands
2 fingers inside
lips strictly around
to eat 2 lips
30 minutes of
ultra caressed
hyper scrupulous
tense heaving ;
say numbers
7,205 seconds
until reaches
the startling pinnacle
of über sensuous
gangling drugged
with blonde milk
suddenly supple
between, "my dear,"
count as to count
by more than 20
digits to feverishly
blunder through
hurried wanting
to crush,
( say numbers and speak not numbly
of the nimble bumbling of thy pale
fracas an earth will be born from
within wishing will to will unworried
a fraction cut beneath the navel by
a tremendously incalculable urging
to rush
)
Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 8:04 PM UTC
entering the gradual hour,
this wraith without announcement,
without wreathe, without the
song of bells nor the fracas
of cathedrals.
are you always like this?
have you already deciphered
the enigma imbued on the twists
of our roads? have you already quieted the anthem of emptiness?
when silence befalls you, do you trill on the same bough after your tired flight? with what weight of water do you scrunch the already dampened foliage? outside windows and all openings there is only the old moon's wane, and in this uniform exactitude, do you speak what remains to be said? what are only these words that remain so small in us? why have we not foreseen their deaths?
why must you go in the irretrievable dark and emerge with
only scarce light? why must now your languid bones rattle underneath the ground of this formlessness and speak to me the languages i conceive on my own
and not from your once brazenness?
before your rigor was the sibilant stridence of your once wry smile.
we cannot find it in us anymore,
and somewhere yet again, inside of us, rallies still with its mayday and its warfare,
something only a shadow could
only ***** in the total dark.
Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 4:23 AM UTC