"fulminate" poems
It is a terrible thing this flesh that wears us
Being makes us
Slaves to atomic thought
Particles possessing some consciousness
Dreams stream from the undermind
To undermine
All we thought we were
From the sub-atomic to the atomic
On into the protein patterns of our thoughts
Neurotransmitters flood and fulminate
Filling our minds with strange things
Receptor receiving impressions
Leave strangers believing instincts
Animals evolved to understand but ignore
The gifts we have acquired from millions years and more
A talent for analyzing then adjusting ourselves
And after the fact constructing a model
That makes continuity out of all of the chaos
Now most take it for granted
Become carbon copies cut in granite
They give in to the impulses
And waste said potential on fulfilling the illusion
The desire to be grander is subsumed
By their fear of non-existence
Which is what they become
Not after death
But as cogs in the machine
In a factory of robotic human beings
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 4:49 PM UTC
Nerves fulminate, fissuring skin
As bones crackle, to weary tear,
Volcanic face, pooling hot tears,
Gaia weeps, her world despairs,
All of land's flora, and all of seas,
Erupt, displeasure at man's villainy.
Dec 8, 2018
Dec 8, 2018 at 8:44 AM UTC
What do my memories taste like? There lies on my tongue—
An atomic bomb:
a purported speck, with no chicken pox skin situated upon such.
I spat it out; I wobbled on and on, stomping the microscopic intensity into the sludge.
No one sees; how pleasant…
My shoe’s underside slit it— a paper cut broiled to the infinitude degree—
Preposterous conundrum! Slam!
I fulminate! I screech, the needy baby I am!
My guttural heave strews in the wind:
deformed limbs on the newer generations, an abysmal thread.
Supposedly bland, but then: a guzzling bleed from you and I gushes on and on; but oh, was it needed!
Listen to my writhing! Soak in my curdling roaring!
I am the mafia mastermind, but I plead to guilt!
The vandalism cannot be grated, but I will
revamp, spot clean, and hunt for a vaccine.
I cannot cure a scored scar, but rest assured:
I will endeavor to solidify the clot.
Aug 29, 2020
Aug 29, 2020 at 4:31 PM UTC
Chaos, oh Chaos
May you bloom in the midst of summer
As a carnivorous flower
I would burn to see you
to see you catch fire
I would perish to see you
To see you melt our concrete hives
and our asphalt gardens
Would that your petals soar
would that your pollen melt
and your stem detach.
A nebula risen from the mud,
infused with anger and grafted with hatred.
May your desperation feed your flame
that its magnificence would grow and fulminate.
Finally to explode
and consume this miserable plantation
where order is farmed and harvested
like a common fruit.
Jun 23, 2010
Jun 23, 2010 at 6:17 AM UTC
The Sovereign of Songbirds
Has been roused
Emitting layers of harmony
Borne of exultation, borne of woe, and
Reverberating in the Key of Elysium
Let your dreams guide you.
As the fulgent daystar
Dawns upon your starry spirit,
The musicality, the euphony of amour
Will abide within.
Soar unto the stratosphere,
For the limitlessness of flight
Belongeth to
The earthen vessel waxing ethereal;
Furthermore, it is only achieved through self-transcendence.
Ye are Children of Manumission;
Therefore, fulminate from sea to shining sea
Until the obsidian of hate
Descends into Magisterial Oblivion
Arising anew as The Element of Freedom.
The Requiem of the Revenant shall rise,
The Maw of Darkness will fall;
Ultimately, the Paean of Light will
Resound upon the four corners
Of the Terraqueous Mother.
(Se' lah)
Apr 7, 2021
Apr 7, 2021 at 4:22 AM UTC
Lo! The holiest saint, arises underneath the sun /
Whose august, resplendent rays fulminate /
Auric with excellency; golden in his eyes; /
Therefore, my pilgrimage upon this world /
Is but an ephemeral speck, an exhalation, transitory, /
For all is a preparation, a quickening /
Unto Greater Eden! /
Lo! A Land where dreaming is fallacy for /
Arcadia awakens anew with each morn: /
Love & Light brim in every living soul; /
There in my heart, I fathom The Transcendent hears my /
Beckoning cries beneath /
The adamantine moon, & /
My wishes shall be ordained at twilight. /
Lo! "Know thyself," said the sage; /
Yet, every man, /
Every woman, /
Every child, /
Falters should they fathom themselves fully. /
Ye, ignorance is not only ephemeral bliss, but existential.
(Voracious self-knowing is moored in a sea of vanity) /
Lo! Understand that meant to be understood /
By mortal eyes, yet, mind /
That there are deific forces whom devise, /
Transcending the veiled realm of our Mind's Sky; /
Therefore, we must allow ourselves /
The privilege of unknowing: /
By virtue of this advent, enlightenment is borne. /
(—Se' lah)
Oct 25, 2021
Oct 25, 2021 at 6:33 PM UTC
Us poets,
We perforate the darkness within us
with the light of the Sun.
Soak ourselves in melancholy
like a worn out sponge
and call it inspiration.
Spite like a trail of gunpowder
lit with mad passion
and fulminate onto a piece of paper
tranfused from the nooks of our hearts,
white turns red
coarse in red,
red with lingering passion.
Into
Something digestible
for discening eyes
thoroughly wayward among wilted leaves
vagrant souls with their mouths
stitched because of
the dolour of misunderstanding
hissing with the wind in search
of something or someone
to relate to.
We make it seem like we're not so alone in this world.
Mar 13, 2016
Mar 13, 2016 at 12:51 AM UTC
I drank poison
of hate and resentment tonight.
I wonder whether my eyes
will be tumid tomorrow
of all the tears that were shed
and glow with malevolence
or wouldn't event want to lift an eyelid.
I wonder whether my
tongue will spew the vile remaining
or it wouldn't even utter a word.
I wonder whether my muscles will
fulminate with the energy of hate
or it would be too heavy to get off
bed tomorrow.
I wonder if my mind will be raging
tomorrow or would've drowned and
been dissolved by the venom coursing through me.
I wonder as I slip into sleep.
Jul 25, 2019
Jul 25, 2019 at 3:05 AM UTC
Light thieves transparently
upon these windows now:
Now clouds migrate
and birches bow into the bowing fields of night
where night and dearth conspire
to fulminate this widowhood,
wild as the smouldering eyes
of the angry child, surprised by the fertile god
that taints the shoot
before the seed has travelled from the root.
Jan 12, 2017
Jan 12, 2017 at 1:30 AM UTC
in view of blue orchids
on a rattled omen vase
crust and core undulate
the ground shakes
and its crumbs spread to fulminate
along then came a spider with
a blue messianic face
pulling martyrs out like **** stems
from unsuspecting graves
unfolding the patchwork of
shattered porcelain paint
rim and base suffocate
luminous sprites spread
to fill in the missing space
with tired eyes and fire light
they meld it all into a frame
placed on a pedestal
to sermonize disaster
and voluminous revival in the wake
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 12:26 PM UTC
- take me -
fervent
your voice
breathe me in
- I need you -
growled quietly
against my skin
causing
vellus erectile
the fever to begin
tongues tip tease
dragged on belly skin
lengthy peregrination
until caresses appease
aching yet never wanting
these sensations to abate
to reach the culmination
be settled and satiated
inner storms begin
as fault lines shiver
then start to crack
each kiss you deliver
tongue untied tripping
the light fantastic
slowly down my back
cumulonimbus burst
pulse thunders in my head
those fault line breaths
feed the rumble
and shake of our bed
tremors begin
amid the toss and tumble
the gentle earthquake
starts
raising shiver to shudder
tremble quiver & shake
twin beating hearts
as the world dissolves
breaking down my walls
brick by brick
my honey
gives such visceral
real love - baby
this no simulacrum trick
climactic colours fulminate
kaleidoscopic
behind my eyes
when you draw out
deep ******** sighs.
J.C. honey-baby 02/08/2019
Aug 2, 2019
Aug 2, 2019 at 10:11 PM UTC
i have already something
new and sublime to say
about love.
as two people on the bench
where the birds are
unashamedly perching right by,
pecking on the cheek of the world
soon enough now, the hand of
which mad drivel shall tear
this photograph in two
and with a hand on the knee
as a gentle stamp to
a reaching-for-and-out epistle,
we are far away,
and love is as sad as the
flower that has grown
weary of waiting for the sun
to fulminate altogether with
its eyes staring in the
veranda of hope wide-awake.
and love is as short as the
sudden jolt of bones, atremble,
as though you have fallen
completely into,
but have only fallen out,
partially, one foot first
out the yawning door
and into the heavy premises
of a heart's trying forgetfulness.
to have heard once, the call
of a tame voice through
the wild hand of trouble's immensity, and to have held it
once so shortly bold thereafter,
with leonine eyes i see only
a small distance i cannot seal
with one kiss. i need a hundred more of you and a thousand more of this before i can fill your nebulosity with a million star-like
kisses traced only by the
white hand of time that continues to punctuate our
sentences right even before
our lips quiver to speak them
softly like how i first sank
in you and you in me, a flotsam
of memories.
i have something new to show
about love with mine eye's
unresting shutters capture
moments held loose like a mother's
frail child,
this photograph with your hand
on my knee,
cleaved into worlds from the
silence of our eyes and
only longing
speaks so much the straightforward,
we are far away.
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 2:24 PM UTC
desolate, raging waves,
breathe in and out,
like a philippic of breaking glass.
fragmented pieces of water,
sharp and hostile; a parallelism of one's own swain.
“I could drown with you,”
I uttered, “I could fade away like these waves soon will.”
you kissed like a starving child,
you kissed like it was your last.
heated bodies,
malnourished, swollen tongues,
begging hands, digging nails.
the performance of hungry ***
the dance of darkling seas.
evanescent, like the two of us,
we began to understand the fulminate of storms.
Sep 3, 2017
Sep 3, 2017 at 11:42 PM UTC