"gibbers" poems
The Queen of Absentia rises from royal
stool to watch the moon set sheathed
in broiling cloud as she skips whirling
adders that hiss in fat jagged coils, their
hollow blades jutting death in sprinkler
sprays of misting veils and her
head is hypethral; a Gaudi shipping
container soldered in reptile curves,
licked by arrowheads of falcate flame
as she rounds its laughing corners;
an adderaled lab rat, eyes black funnels
drinking electrodes pulsing crimson and
the stars are crackling in the pan as she
sees planets torn shrieking down Hell’s hungry
plughole as fallen Gods divide by zero
and the clock’s skittering claws scratch
prophecies of consequence of poorly
sewn seams, but she smiles like a risen
crocodile and says,
‘you’re just jealous cos the
voices only talk to me.’
And again she dives as unwanted
advice gibbers up out snapping drains,
and power points shoot sharp blue spears
lighting substrates of ancient horror, inchoate
but fattening before her eyes as she
sits, wrapped in ghosts, guarding her
ochre tea in its chalice of steaming bone,
trying to sell herself a ticket to
tomorrow’s sunrise, staring at thunderheads
bunching up satin over sodden ninjas sprouting
cardboard hair, slicing down legions of
roaring pearl as death hunts hollow-eyed below.
Her Majesty holds court, amid the percussion of
steel and plate, a matador to shadows
that clasp their hands and dance around, as
clouds hammer rain to the ground.
Jul 23, 2012
Jul 23, 2012 at 6:44 PM UTC
Look at that naughty monkey
with that tin cup in his hand
he shakes it with small change inside
for his master the ***** grinder by his side
He gibbers and on a cigar he smokes
ladies legs as they pass he does stroke
he bites if you don't put something in his tin
for he knows with no food he will get thin
His red waistcoat and fez
well, they have seen better days
yet he is loyal to his master
as his buddy grinds away
His mischief has no bounds
as he bangs his cup on the ground
he is a crowd pleaser
and a great money reviler
this monkey with his ***** grinder
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
By NeonSolaris
© 2013 NeonSolaris (All rights reserved)
Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 8:28 PM UTC
What shall we eat,
My tiny man,
With fingers white as bone.
The black bird nest
A badgers breast,
The story fom a stone.
Who will pluck my eyes from me,
The wriggling tongue that gibbers,
The earthen sod,
The Ravens nod
The moon out from the river.
Bat speak violin,
Toad speak drum,
Fly childer, raise skin
CreepWillows hum
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 6:12 PM UTC