"globular" poems
Walk fast with sparkling eyes
Focus to the subject with great desire
Don’t look back to stay on line
Stay calm to make it light
Chase still but stay hidden
Heart pumped fast, pause a little
Sweat glands working at the situation
Ignore for now and go with the mission
But when determined finger about to click
A pair of angry globular ***** meets
The lenses directly perceived
Subject caught me now I’m gonna melt
Sep 6, 2013
Sep 6, 2013 at 1:01 AM UTC
Gnarled cedar ridges match one wrinkle,
Red on my foreheads smooth, pale, taunt skin
Contrasting the deep skies blue, roundness seen,
Through two globular, wet, brown eyes.
Cedar bark can feel jagged outside but,
Like my own tongues tendency to tell truths,
When picked open releases a green scent,
Honestly pungent, stingingly needed.
Cedar roots are buried under mounds of aged Earth–decay,
Gripping tight like family, faith, friends, remaining
As the one force that holds the Cedar up,
And I too reach my hands up in praise.
Oct 7, 2012
Oct 7, 2012 at 4:34 PM UTC
A scintillating ocean.
Refracting light across the spectrum,
colours beyond white, black, and red;
Mirror to the universal spirits.
Crystalline forms growing
like families of fungi across the horizon.
A mycological configuration
of salts and waveform reflectors.
A frisson of diamonds.
Seizures of globular light, elliptical rainbows.
Twice-reflected hollow moonbeams.
Creating.
Cubes in the molecular structure,
Silent carbon and quartz,
as from some distant caverns
unseen by any eye.
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 3:11 PM UTC
fingers to imbibe
sculpture of a body,
skin I will caress
drop by drop,
cloud thy golden-
rayed spread form,
sip honey sweetness,
bee wings flapping,
steaming musk,
fireflies illumine,
on a blue valley of
an anonymous realm,
we shall alight
the words and us,
drip, globular, suckle,
kiss , ripple, river
Jun 16, 2017
Jun 16, 2017 at 4:25 AM UTC
Lamentation; infelicity through neurotransmitters
Passing fleetly; swift but disturbed
Grids of brainwaves for the degraded
Overhead LED view is negroided
Chapter 1 Migraines;
A klaxon that grains into migraine
From there on out, strolling convulsion lane
Deriving from deception; antibodies start to lead loosely
Throe after throe I choose not to fuss
Laceration in hemikrania is conversing with the rest of my body,
Frequent as days turn nightly
I host the severe megrimly
Chapter 2 Vomiting;
A horendous bile builds up in my throat
Moaning like a ghoul; I banish the gloats
Disgorging from nothing, Heaving and heaving the dry
Although I force myself not, all the nosh turns into emit rye
Vital fluid very crimson soon came
From the cranium, I dislose, head pain
Frequent as the waves harsh blows
I host a ***** hose
Chapter 3 Tumor;
A neoplasm underneath I've found out
Unvisible but there; my flesh will start swelling undoubt
Below I feel like a mutant
All putant and disformed
Like globular liquids dripping from sewage waste
As long as I can still haste
Crescendo and surge won't ado
Frequent as traffic builds a rush hour
I host a cyst that is sour
Chapter 4 Deaf;
An absense of all frequencies
I daze everso daily;
Feeling like an earless statue; sound unaccompanied
Missing the wind's howls that ululate,
Clamors and bellows that spoliate
I can't sight the same verbiage
Without sonancy to inflicit, I see one big mirage
Frequent as birth enfolds
I host a soundless toll
Chapter 5 Brain Cancer;
A malignant fate told today
Disease spreading like a machine,
Programmed to enquire all it knows
A gruesome and hateful dose;
Withering casually away
Grown apart of, I'm the prey
As we hunt the beasts'
An invisible naked eye is poaching
Frequent as a house infested
I host a cancerous clothing
Chapter 6 Death;
A termination soon to unfold
I am as finished and ruined as story told
Biological function ending
Senescence through spending
User maat I haven't seen all wanted
Alas I am greatful for what has been daunted
Frequent as a death anew
I host a dissolution
My evolution; through.
Nov 24, 2010
Nov 24, 2010 at 7:09 AM UTC
Staying in tune with the balance
Courageously looking into the mind's eye
into all eyes
what is swirling in my limitless expanse?
Recursive Recursive
Tell me your dreams
share in thought
find the silence holding the world's sound
Peace is a pebble in the blinding storm, Pick it up
Fantasy touch Reality
Drive along watch
Find the tower over looking the expanse
climb the mountain high
stare around the expanse until your vision meets the endless horizons
its all out there
globular circle, perpetual motion machine
spinning, flying, tumbling round & round
hurtling at 7 decatillion light years
through time space and beyond
we, these seeming ants along for the ride of our life
space time travelers placidly in our world of chaos adapting,
adaptive shoulder shruggers on a planetary scale
This planetary potential genius to awake in us all
Does the last man come?
What will the over man make of paradise?
Sleepy progenitors, laugh
shake your curly hairy heads
cover yourself with rags if you must,
or Don't!
Are you comfortable in skin?
Do you fathom what is beyond your sensual limits?
***** woman do you know?
Have you found it in your fleshy delights,
the secret invitation for discovery is in every niche, every hole, every fold, every kiss, every caress, every stare, every touch, every smooth slide, fingertips tracing lines of hips, lips, backs, calves, feet, jaw, ear, cheek.
A young lover may know it there, or especially an old, a bucktramp
or the loveliest ***** lady
Label the divine and holy if you must
its all out there waiting and engaging
its here now with you, with us
linking along
the water moves but is constantly there, co arising,
what wave is where
Its all here
chant OM, can you feel it?
Hold that vibration, pulsate with your mouth closed and hum and shout melodically
emitting the vibe
Be the Vibeman.
Jan 5, 2014
Jan 5, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC
Make my heart stir once more
Furthering a silicon sickness
Unreachable this time
Sworn from these graces so long ago
An immense melody scarring reflections
This too will haunt our past
Speaking with bruised wrists
All roads home are now erased
Mountains yielding permanence
Emerging with gorgeous anticipation
Shed their fallen attempts
For your eyes are not green
They were born from the most ancient of moss
Wrapped in a dripping globular of starlit jade
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 7:09 PM UTC
We live in a house, simple and nice
With a garden lined with crotons in rows
Not so neatly trimmed or pruned as before
And a lawn not always well manicured
But abounding in plants with blooms of varied hue
From shady corners, orchids peep
They bring forth flowers in bunches and mass
Only on certain seasons, not the year round.
Then a visual treat to the eyes, indeed!
Trees big and small border our land
Mango trees and jack fruit trees
Coconut palms and guava trees
Twining creepers with globular passion fruits
Bushy plants of sweet and sour berries
Rose apples, papayas and Chinese limes
An epitome of country abundance!
In front of the house was once a stretch of fields
Lush and fresh with paddy plants in June
And in autumn, bent with arching sheaves of corn
Green parakeets used to come from far
To eat the grains ready to be reaped
Having their fill they would fly westward in flocks
Such scenes were a source of instant delight
But sad enough, those fields were gradually filled
In place of paddy and other seasonal crops
Industrial units, big and small have emerged
By degrees, the quiet and coolness of the place
That once soothed our frayed nerves are gone
Now an exodus of men have landed here
Laborers who have come from Northern states
To eke out a living in a better clime
Speaking languages, Bengali, Hindi and Tamil
Leaving the area noisy with incessant chatter
Along the road that runs parallel to our house
Now speeds past, motors in unbroken row
Honking horns and raising a screen of smoky dust
Spoiling the ambiance of our verdant setting
And badly impairing the neat surroundings
But with every change of scene and setting
We, like nomads cannot change our stay or dwelling
Well acclimatized to all noise and commotion
We now stick to our home, our humble haven
And strive to create within an inner landscape
Not polluted by the ravages of time or clime
Home is the sanctuary where we roost and rest
A sweet dwelling, more than all mansions blest
And it should be an abode of love where hearts embrace
Every turn of life, grim or merry with no fuss but with grace
How sweet it is to dwell beneath this roof
Our wedded life’s enduring love’s living proof!
Jul 29, 2017
Jul 29, 2017 at 9:35 AM UTC
It starts with I…
And one night, under triangular canopy of Vega-Denair-Altair,
I meets you,
you call it M-13,
A foolish and globular cluster.
We muster courage saying: “There are no bodies in the sky. There are only bodies here to live and die.”
I-like-you(s) sprain to I-want-you(s)
And I-want-you(s) will, surely, hint at I-need-you(s)
This will be a lie because we are not each other’s food or drink.
Nevertheless, one day an I-need-you is translated into an I-love-you
This will not be a lie. Not because all poets are liars, but because not all liars are poets.
Not by lips or tongues or even signs-
But by virus, a susceptible core and conception
Infectious only under summer triangle,
low light pollution, and _____________.
In darkness we can doubt the existence of light.
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 1:40 AM UTC
O body, the little fish you swallowed yesterday
Yes, those
There are no other reasons
For this cat to roam around
For the third time
Fish swallowed yesterday, do not flail about
The globular eyes of that cat
O stomach, at least
Till it goes away,
Do not upset
With the slight movements of your waves
Body, body
Cautiously by the seaside
If all the fish that got inside
Bounced on seeing the place of origin
And if their friends tried knocking on each cell
If body, your body washed up all over a shore
Kissed by fishes
Body,
If all that you looked at greedily,
All that you ate ravenously,
All that you relished slowly
Appeared before you sometime
If it appeared
Body, body,
While seeing the kids,
If breast milk from thirty years ago spread out
If cake and fried liver
start out searching for little mouths
If all alcohol imbibed
Spurted out while meeting friends
Screamed out at midnight
Recited a ***** poem while no one was listening
Body,
On a noon, in favorite city
If two areolae appeared
And again spread brilliance
If you spilled out
Inhaling that redolence
Seeing something,
If saliva, sweat or wetness
Jump out
Body, body
If seeing greenery,
The cows and buffaloes and rabbits
Come out to graze,
Frogs start croaking
Seeing rain clouds
If seeing the sky,
The crow and crane inside
Start flying
If the **** comes out into the yard on seeing the hen,
Body, body,
If the fish, beasts and birds inside
Come out simultaneously,
Body, body,
Body’s soul…
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 8:19 AM UTC
Bosch is not like any man.
He eats his metaphysics raw.
Great and globular,
A sanguine fruit looms forth infinitely.
Stars, like gleaming berries picked,
Lay strewn across his astral dining set.
He breaks bread with the Abstract Entities,
Devouring the Earth and all its mortal sentiments.
He voices his distaste for the fibrous pulp,
Formless nose scrunched and curled
With loathing at the terrestrial filaments
Stuck between his teeth.
Bosch's belly is an endless hollow
Where darkness swallows light.
There is no air, no sound.
Its abysmal blackness knows no bounds.
His hunger insatiable,
He drinks in the Milky Way,
Eager to fill the emptiness
Of his ever-expanding void.
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 8:45 PM UTC
There was an Old Person of Hurst,
Who drank when he was not athirst;
When they said, 'You'll grw fatter,'
He answered, 'What matter?'
That globular Person of Hurst.
1.2k
When thinking about backgammon and playing the game,
It makes me feel kinds dead like rigomortis , being lame,
I don’t mean to deluge info with a flood of knowledge to you,
But my brain is a globular cluster with knowledge you never knew.
Now ill give you an orison a hope for a great day,
So you can make it over the skybridge in one piece but not one way,
But enough about the future I know you have chronomentrophia,
But who cares tomorrow is Guy Fawkes day so live in your own utopia!
Oct 25, 2011
Oct 25, 2011 at 11:11 AM UTC
In a preternatural stupor
a dream seduced me to believe
that out of sheer
cosmic boredom
infinity generates,
this ever expanding universe
all by itself, decided
to turn inside out.
Why not, I thought
a great time indeed for us,
at last, to see God play dice!
Stars and planets came unstuck,
dangling like ripe globular fruits
or fancy lamps,
hung from a ceiling, if you like
while sky, the blue outer skin,
that helped us to make some sense
of the whole business of universe
went completely missing,
from our eye shot.
Days and nights,
what a happy anarchy!
have no order with
lot of colors thrown in
between varying hours.
Oct 18, 2011
Oct 18, 2011 at 3:23 AM UTC
A week back, in my garden bloomed, a tiny flower
Neither colorful nor flashy to grab anyone’s attention
The next day one more bud opened of golden hue
Making it more visible, adding an iota to its attraction
Each day to the delicate stalk was added more
Until finally it grew into a large globular cluster
I now stand nonplussed before its splendor
So lovely, it can steal any one’s glance by its luster
When the wind ruffles the leaves of trees
The mother plant in luxuriant foliage stands proud
Bobbing her golden crown in gentle breeze
Safely screened from the gaze of passing crowd
A dandy butterfly has come flitting down
To kiss those regal beauties like a besotted lover
Embarrassed by such a public show of love
The bashful maidens bend their heads so demure
I am the sole witness to this passionate romance
To the love struck dandy’s out right advance!
Apr 28, 2016
Apr 28, 2016 at 11:52 PM UTC
Where did you go my queen,
Sun eluded,darkness hued the sky,
Clouds amalgamated and the sounds emerged,
Thunder tingling the mother earth,
Where did you go,you two little foot with your graceful fingers and celestial hands,
Wandering in the cosmos of obliviousness,
My mind envisaging your pastiche presence,
I see ur smile drifting on the rays of the imbued rainbow:
When the mellows of the zephyr that carried the voice of your breathe that breezed in to my breathe,
The ecstasy of tears cracked through the clustered clouds,
My hair winding as the zephyr roving through synecdoche strands...
My palm is under the influence of the dripping water,
and my eyes caught you floating, like the foliage leaf,
The ellipsoidal life carried your simulacrum,
I asked the drops of globular life that where did she impersonate you,
She limned with the bubbles that spoke chirpily:
"I saw her While I was in jaunt trip with the chariot clouds and lilting thunder,
she was strolling in the frolic fields fuddled with wallowing winds....
Her long hirsuite was in harmony with the zephyr,
As the brother zephyr was billowing in to her hair...".
I don't know where the place is,even my mind tends to imagine it,,
but I feel I too could fuse with you in the midst of that perpetual bliss,
I am waiting for you as my body transferring heat to the dripping life,
Didn't u hear those imbued silences that yelled your name...
Where did u go you plenary pulchritude,It is from you that I read what undulations are.....
If you don't come,I will...when I do...you wouldn't...
We will melt as one to the one....
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 11:48 PM UTC
A thousand letters ago
my declarations meant galaxies
Ink smudged constellations only
a nebula to your Globular cluster
As time waned so did the layers of the universe
After being rooted in the milky way
I found andromeda
Knowing fated arms will intertwine
I discovered that love was everlasting outside of those forced letters of an old province
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 7:48 AM UTC
self-importance
your self is important
even sometimes imparted.
define me "stealing".
define for me "sharing".
appropriate? highly
inappropriate.
sickly skinning
stimming sexily
what a seasonal miracle
they keep us alive.
the seasons keep me,
keep a sacred worship
of the seasons
as a thread to what is left of sense
they confirm life and
death so generously
the projectile ***********
of
flora, fauna
dew, criminal
so perfect in its sticky
globular ambrosia
for the ages to keep spinning
open to the full spectrum
of life with you.
wreaking pleasure
meandering pain
full circle, yin and yang
Apr 28, 2015
Apr 28, 2015 at 9:46 AM UTC
Two actors locked in a bubbled world
Imperiously divided by theatrical fatigue
Smearing their world's apart
Fortitude leaking away
Minds and prose encrypted
Acting of seated voids
Spoof audience tones
Droning recordings
Repetitive reactions
Expressive duplicity
Stealing a march
Volunteer or hypnotize a plaque
Shaman inspired acting
Building up the spirits
Delirious and entranced
healing and inspired
A humorous response
Globular concoctions
Two fingered gesticulations
Chains of merriment
Prisoner block tour
Headache and anxiety
Exposed and bare
B cell patrols
Safer
Upbeat beliefs
Armed for the fight
Muggers beware
Heads apart
Virtual Readings
Hygienic face pacs
Social distance now Embraced
Jan 14, 2021
Jan 14, 2021 at 6:53 AM UTC
I wanted, but then
she was more insistent,
I showed her the pin,
with it's globular head
and pointed tip-
evidently keen in intension.
She was bitten by the bug,
***** me hard with your pin"
she said,
i got it,..the blood..
nobody was around that lakeside,
at that time.
I saw three drops of blood
on white satin.
I didn't stop,
her eyes were butterflies
flitting around white satin,
and the blood-letting pin.
Jan 11, 2012
Jan 11, 2012 at 7:50 AM UTC
Setting: Black and white landscape, grayscale populace. Dull droning frequency progressively inaudible, machine type quartz operated movement from birds eye view. •••••••• READ•THE•MESSAGE••••••••
Way - too - much.
You're not spending enough.
You need a car like this.
You don't look like them.
Next Setting: The brain. Synapses and dendrites/stalactites and stalagmites.
••••••••IN•ANOTHER•PLACE••••••••
Reading angels write hymns of summer sight, snowflake moonlight; life to no end, broken door still shut with moist eyes and dry lips. Sing to me from fallen skies and invade my prison mind.
Fever clutch shadow craving collapsed oxygen bandages soaked red with blood and organized by decomposition rate.
Capsized ship sunk mentality, leveled from the tarnished mirror. Scoop hand down for packaging cassette tapes neatly. No kneel working while busy foraging the soft shore for answers to the newer questions yesterday. Grains and globular surface melting molten and traveling through the path of least resistance.
••••••••OLD•NEWS•NEW•ESCAPE••••••••
Commence the countdown!
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 10:38 AM UTC
Not since the plasmic glow of the Inflationary period,
When the glorious Universe could be held in the palm of your hand,
Has the Light prevailed;
Ever-after, the Darkness has gained increasing **********
Forget those globular perturbations coalescing into Galaxies;
Forget, too, the denser gases igniting into radiant stars;
The cold, dark space-time only retreats temporarily - and grows all the while.
The expanding Universe acts to isolate the Light,
And the Darkness is patient enough to await its ultimate victory.
When Matter has run its race,
And complex Life is a distant echo;
When atoms and molecules haven't the Energy to socialise,
Then the Darkness will swallow the Light for good.
The Universe will be dark and dead -
And God will cease to exist.
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
A whisper in your ear,
that stirs you, in your sleep,
like fingers of a dream, wind I am,
that caresses your high peaks
make you nod your head
in a sweet pleasure, not known before,
moaning softly wanting more and more,
permitting the flirty wind to take liberties,
his fingers wandering down
while you feebly try to stop,
in a half hearted way.
I am the transparent cloud,
that wraps your alluring curves
with the Kashmir shawl of fog
when the bleary eyes of lecherous sun,
fall on you and you want to get away
running fast from that humiliating moments.
The spring that oozes and drips,
at those moments of intense urge,
it seeps, flows through mossy brooks,
till it finds it way for true fulfillment
I am the fire you dream,the warmth in your
intimate moments,for the fulfillment in the alter,
all dark residues are burned, made pure
my joy know no bounds, when you become
my alter and I your holy fire burning warm and slow,
The breeze that undulates your globular fruits,
with gentle hands to give you goosebumps,
fills each of your blank page with the gift of poetry,
and sing your songs till nightfall and then crawl,
to your bed rolling over to my side not to sleep.
Jul 15, 2015
Jul 15, 2015 at 1:32 PM UTC