"infusion" poems
~for Maya, the Persian Canadian farmer in the dell~
your poetic riddling questions without hesitation re
my claim conceptual
refuting with factoids actuarial experiential derived,
that cows need milkshake making daily by sunrise
nonsense
so you wake me up groggy on a Miami Saturday 6:00am
with a reciprocal poetic to a dashed off to contra my
code of conduct poem-mine;
and all that stumbles through my almost reset rested,
main stem cortex is an a ancient hebrew homily:
on Sabbath Saturday, even the cows sleep late
ok;
just tween us rare passes the day that a glancing phrase doesn’t register a stabbing whine “of me, of mine do sing” and your point counterpoint incision demands inspiration instant re-mission
around 10am when the amiable barn aminals sipping cuppa #3,
and the chicken children want a weekend brunch xtra feeding
are done, in the yard, put out to
pack n' peck n’ play
so that’s an intro to this work
that jumps the line of a
hundreds of other’s poems promised and overdue:
insight inside your crafted wake up slam slap was
pretty **** near the makers mark bourbon of this distillers
bourbon barrels bulbous poem’s bibliothèque that
has an impatient waiting list
of poems waiting anointing
each a personage~poem of that day it was birthed inscribed
this particular one for you,
~
my complexity non-Napoleonic
just humanoid each, here are my leaders from and
into a veining so lovely colored
each poem a waving wheat stalk
before these old tired eyes close to closing hear once more
“of me, of mine do sing”
so I follow all of you by dimming yellow light,
for this is the soil of nutriment rich from where my
words grow taller and the yellow infusion feeds my wheats,
the amber, the red hard and soft, the whites, the durums,
and mon préféré, prairie spring white,
which is my secret nickname for a duality woman,
poet and farmer,
posing riddles
that deserve answers*
maybe
—-
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2503650/little-ole-me-a-riddle-of-sorts/
May 12, 2018
May 12, 2018 at 11:17 AM UTC
She is My cream nicotine
The
Surging through our blues
The fluidity of divinity
Juxtapose
Whoever said love was easy…
Yeah 'Ol Chap, they Sure had it right,
Because no man or lady can ever Subtract
Once their hue has mixed it can never go back.
2 Whipped Cream and Other Delights.
And why would you?
The dregs are bitter,
The milk too sweet.
If you water it down then
All flavor retreats
Life is just better off Bitter-Sweet,
Cream never asks coffee
On how it should mix
Why do we attempt these liquid alchemy tricks?
The intrusion is dilution of the Makers choice
Through imperfection comes the lesson
Learned perception with each sip
The air red dried truth
The
Words stuck to the lips
Tasters Digest the last drink drips
Yet I question why I am so subject
to infusion
Her meaningful quips
Why we attempt these liquid alchemy tricks?
Still I question why I am so subject
to the infusion of Her
Dips
Sometimes I call it Love
Sometimes I call it Quits
For You My Dear
Let's Cheers Another Grip
of
Seared Buds and Belly Aches
and
Lactose Licorice
So
Pour Another! while the Argument still in Air
and
While Dilutions of gratification Grind into Frothy Despair
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 8:13 PM UTC
#
Sitting here in front of this screen
my Artist Peppino, across my thigh—
(the greater, for the time being,
giving way to the lesser)
One day, I will be able to breathe life
into your strings, my love…
the way I do words onto paper.
And on that fine, glorious day
I will no longer need these cheese-dick,
stupid ******* online poetry sites
to bring forth the music of my soul.
Nor will I continually need to wade through
this never-ending barrage of classic hiders
and their bastardization-like misuse of poetry—
in order to hide behind the very words
that should be given the permission to make them become,
truly known.
There are those who thrive on this..
this currency of curated words,
seduction dressed as scripture,
all twisted into the soft ropes of poetry
to bind the vulnerable,
to rob the soul of its own infusion..
the self from the soul,
the soul from the self..
*--until all that remains
is the quiet, starving shell
of a heart displaced,
an identity diluted,
left wandering inside
the sociopathic intent
to truly bastardize poetry’s
life-giving potentiality
into nothing more than self-indulgent gain--*
always at the cost of the reader,
who, starving for something real,
somehow falls for their twisted game.
****
eh..
There is no alone-ness within the magnificent resonations
of the perfectly plucked string
of the most perfect, of guitars.
Like this one, sitting right here
in my lap.
#
Feb 4, 2020
Feb 4, 2020 at 9:40 PM UTC
Some time Life is like a dark room,
Indiscernible indulge to intuit incurring infusion
Infusion of irrelevant and irregular,
Leads to a moment of disappointment and despondent!
******
But when light penetrate
Everything becoming vivid - vivacious
and set up Valve to visions!
*******
Allow light to break in and spread all over.......
Make everyone spirited and shunt for
Peace and progress!!!
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 3:59 AM UTC
Sometimes I just wanna start over,
to wipe the slate clean and start again.
Other times I'm glad the slate is still defiled.
Why is it so hard to live up to my own expectations?
To fulfill my own aspirations?
To grapple with these emotions?
To deal with this commotion?
Cognitive pollution, sensory delusion.
Mental illusion, emotional contusion.
Chaotic infusion, and ******** institutions.
Sometimes it's hard to cope.
I just want to elope, to float
to make a clean escape from myself.
To go on vacation and not to invite myself.
To lock myself away within myself
with no on else around to remind myself
of how I so seek to find a way
to cope with myself.
Jul 17, 2012
Jul 17, 2012 at 12:12 PM UTC
Goodbye.
Yesterday, tomorrow
the life before was.
I’ve met you before
*as we sat down
i watched worlds align
in your movements
and stars become
black holes
in jealousy
you are beautiful
you are beauty*
we drank the night
to day;
dizzy, star-struck,
watching time stop
in our swaying movements
*too bad
she couldn’t hold her liquor
our drunken timelines
intersected
in stumbled
introspect
skipping steps
i enjoyed
our spinning thoughts
and tongues sharing
aged language
alongside new bottles
until i was forced
to watch her phase
in and out
of herself*
that moon *****
must’ve had more
than she could handle,
because the next day
there was a new face
on her course,
wasting happy hours
shouting sad times
to morose microphones,
*if you fail
to sing
your anger will
leave you to scream
and shout
similarities
stunningly simple*
masking taxation of
tie-ins’ infusion inbreeding,
demonization of sharing similarities
left time socially awkward
and unacceptably indulgent
of the mindless self
*tonight i will
join myself in song
it will be a hymn
rhythm saved by him
we’ll circle ‘til its begin*
we’ve refin
Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 4:54 PM UTC
Why are people intentionally cruel and malignant?
Are they too blind to mistake their Achilles’s heel for their forte?
Or do they intentionally enjoy obliterating anything that comes their way?
Indubitably, reeling into their self-destruction and collapse as the roof caves.
Repelling any benevolence into their lives,
They will close all doors with their narrow minds.
Atrociousness will prevail and set forth unfathomable tongues of rhyme.
Seeking insatiable supremacy governing in disguise.
Clearly oblivious to the detrimental exploits they expose,
They will lead a life that is solely self-imposed.
Cultivating an environment of animosity is not astute you see,
People will always revolt and eventually be set free.
Unless you morally evolve and realize you have wronged,
You will embark on a journey that will negatively consume your soul.
It begins with your physical state, depleting with every irrational action you make.
Ultimately, deteriorating your body into an anemic vegetable state.
Reeking of insecurities through the infusion of wretchedness and despair,
your life will begin to turn inside out transforming into an eternal torment of misery and hell.
However, it's never too late to change your tyrannical direction.
It's only compassion, empathy, and altruistic love that will be your salvation.
By: Michael M. De La Fuente
Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 12:12 AM UTC
there is something good
and some light
in this desire
enraging my cells
with divination chanting
sculpting my shape
in violent curves
I don't recongnize the hues
of mornings
because of frenzy:
the new definition of gravity
along the lines
mesmerizing visions of
softness and caring
love is a whirlwind
in any language
a clear water
so you can see
how translucent
nakedness can be
hers is
the bending of space
to smaller and smaller
atoms of delight,
fusion, diffusion, infusion
it holds you tight
from the very centre
(heart&lungs)
when it breaks you
and then these traces
the swarming of photons
in the fabric of skin
sweet radiance,
energetic warmness
an arch, a cohort of waves
crushing everything
like cherries' sense
reality sense
roads' sense
a scarring refusing
to scream/bleed
defiance of stillness
music of laughter
sun raising in your hands
there is something beautiful
for the poetess in me
it just describes herself well
for the never-day
it transmutes
anything:
beauty into horror
horror into despair
despair into words
even thought into
singing birds
Jan 3, 2023
Jan 3, 2023 at 4:44 AM UTC
these feet, a rambler's. wanderlust
soles tied from genetics of the epi-
kind. his feet did ramble so as these
now do. his difference, he trek'd with
steel shunt in arm. he trek'd slums'
floors. grit-ingrain'd skin, pox'd wh-
olly and now pushing onlys. pushing
ash against the walls of Death's
container. body aged thru time,
more than doubled - more like
end'd - by that refined infusion.
these feet, a rambler's. walking forth
existences' hundred-mile wilderness.
his feet had also, and his feet defer'd
before sixty-six. these continuing
onward searching ancient trails. loo-
king to start another day, looking
for to never quit seeking another
day before the unlit walls of Death.
before the darkness consuming
of depths never known, always near.
these feet, a rambler's. of well-worn
leather. relinquish'd of cares, desire
or ambitions by brambles strangling.
blood running by access of natural
means. slate gash'd soles, crevices
open'd of the crust throwing chal-
lenges toward the sky. heights im-
aginable if only to forsake lazed
calves. heights set for disappearing,
where tracks never lead. no wrong
side in non-existence, no wrong
sight for the rambling feet worn lea-
ther.
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 7:40 AM UTC
3D Printing
Proud owners of 3D Printers !
Makers of 3D Printers !
Designers of 3D Printers !
What you are creating
Does't hold a candle
To Designer-maker-owner
All-in-one models
Created eons ago !!
It is the female of
Every species of mammals !
Bones, flesh, blood
Nerves, memory cells
Power plants to convert
Food to energy !
Control systems to regulate
Regeneration of fresh cells
Filter system to provide
Clean oxygen to
Fuel the Power Plants
With Powerful binoculars
Audio production mechanics
Audio receptors to pass on
Grey cells enclosed in
Secure and hard shell
Strands of fine hairs
To cushion impact and
As thermal insulation
Protection shields for
All sensory units
Efficient drainage system
Propulsion facilities
Guidance and command
Center for all activities!!
Processors working 24/7
Processing gene information
Tweaking and fine tuning
Some info and trashing a few
Data storage many TB more
Than many data centers could
Offer with minimum
Upkeep and maintenance
Self-Encryption capabilities
And above all the ability
To produce both male and
Female of their species
All from getting just
One ***** and
ultimately infusion
of LIFE
Into the product as casual
As our breathing.
Do we know the creator?
Different Religions have
Different Names for it
But all the same it is
THE ONLY ONE
That counts :-)
Sep 28, 2015
Sep 28, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC
Thanks for showing me my own reflection, in the water’s mirror
a solid infusion, insurmountable intrusions by authority figures.
Not knowing exactly what to do with these forms,
we usually choose to keep them just the same.
The mind says, some are more important than others,
anyway, some bear fruit and others bear colors.
You must wear warm clothes in the winter
and let the obtuse angles, shatter the unwelcome inclusions
of cold weather; diffusions of rectangular protrusions,
surprise, i am aligned again with spirit;
while you remain hidden, behind that dismal screen;
another abysmal refraction of technology, numbing us daily.
I choose movement; blindly, kindly or spontaneous,
on spindly legs, spiders spin their winding webs.
Self reflective and expecting more from this world,
than just tired images, rehashed so many times
that they are burnt to a crispy death.
Let's respect our relations, and our ancestors,
and no longer shall we need to get lost on our vacations,
but instead find the treasure, that demands our complete attention.
If our lack of respect is a sign of the times,
then our lack of pride is so much more attractive to the divine.
Loopholes everywhere, yet we pretend to get caught in our own webs,
made out of pens and paper; thank you for saving those articles
tossed in wastebaskets, all the empty drawers in offices
are still busy being born; the moment, morning comes around to save them...
Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 11:29 AM UTC
Steam punk vengeance
and mechanical parts,
steel and springs
and broken hearts...
Organic reality
all but lost,
love drifts away
body parts tossed...
Cable and gears
evil oil infusion,
unable to speak
lost in confusion...
Forever lost
in Obsidian dreams,
violence and hatred
hanging from beams...
Ripped, torn
broken and beat,
drenched in evil
as good retreats..
Sep 2, 2014
Sep 2, 2014 at 12:33 AM UTC
Inflection
Infliction
Infection
Defective
Defenseless
Impressive
Depression
Impression
Departure
From
Reality
Surreality
Purity
Into
Frailty
Depravity
Definitely
Causing
Confusion
Diffusion
Profusion
In
Inflection
Infection
Imprison
May 10, 2013
May 10, 2013 at 2:10 AM UTC
Gazing into her eyes
This universe of another kind
Gazing beyond formalities
Where society is blind
In simplicity is where
Sanctity must hide
Infusion of the soul
With what we've left behind
Gazing into her eyes
This complex world unwinds
Gazing back into a time
Where the infinite held our minds
I danced upon memories
When there was reason behind life
And all our shallow insecurities
Were not solved underneath the knife
I gazed upon the intrigue
Of sudden, sharp surprise
The sting of knowledge that proves
Behind each horrid truth
Is an even more horrific lie
Apr 13, 2012
Apr 13, 2012 at 4:19 PM UTC
his mouth an infusion of lust,
eagerly impinges; suckling,
tasting as a kitten to milk.
playing in titillating wetness;
sliding tongue over fevered
flesh, leaving me blushed.
arched in desire…
laid back; glaze eyed,
licking delicacy of my essence ~
as I moan sweet and primal.
savoring labials to **** entering
sharp tongued cove of pleasure
widening thighs inch by inch.
our bodies immerge ******* hips
slow dips, locking lips muffling
sighs; drenching aches in rhythm.
a symphony of wood, soaked
tangled sheets losing ourselves
in ecstasies kiss; assuaging
hungered ***** unleashed
greed explodes; drenched in
trembling aches as we bend
into supplication of us.
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 8:25 PM UTC
We're all mad here.
Surviving dead
Blood thirsty creatures
Silvers and golds
Notes and cards.
Screeching screams in the night
Wolves silenced by the frowning moon
Yelling children
Drunken fathers
Thieves of innocence
Food that cannot be eaten
Metal to metal
Guns n' gangs
Hunger
Poverty
******
Rage.
Creeping
Stalking
Taking
killing
Creatures locked in prison cells
Creatures lurk, disguised in disguise
Turf wars
Wolf in wolf's fur that fails to fit
Fits
Slits
Titbits
Pistol whips and
Quick tips
Trenchtowns
Slums
Poor millionaire
Plural.
Misoverstandings;
Understandings, we'll call them.
Look down
Sit down
Shut down
Lay down
Sign out.
Credit checks and barcodes
Exploitation
Infusion
Confusion
Institutions
Misuse
Abuse
Abstruse
Man's soul misplaced
And
His eyes
His hands
His heart
His love
His peace
His life
Alike.
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 12:30 PM UTC
1:38pm Sabbath Mar 25 2023
*it was in no vast eternal plan, no signed signal,
that this day, this moment, this infusion of
a hymn would I compose, lyrics praiseworthy,
to my god, my creator…my single life-long companion.*
*mine hymn of tribute, hymn of mystery,
words of uplift suffusing, abundant abide within,
music straightens my back, eyes tear-glisten,
how come this joy unconstrained, so affecting?*
*the wonder of this mystery, the wander of soul,
how be it all that troubles retreats, a waving-bye tide taken,
both emptied and fulfilled, in simultaneous simplicity,
I am confirmed, ascertained, relieved, even revived!*
*at the intersection of rising divinity, insistent human frailty,
at the crossroads of pure perfection, permanent imperfection,
the impermanence of this meeting quickens, gladdens, knowing
a glancing touch of god’s finger both enlivens and yet blankets.*
***my entire substance, composition, neath a comforter of good,
in a calming restfulness, with the knowing grace that this will pass,
my hymn marks my forehead permanent, that just once I moved in a place, not twixt, not tween, but a perfect firmament nearer my god***…
Mar 25, 2023
Mar 25, 2023 at 3:26 PM UTC
I want to talk of war
Of the horror
Of every stain in the mirror
Stains of ichor, blood and tar
I want to talk of pain
Of the manner
Its infusion makes me cower
This time, next time, and then again
I want to talk of fear
Of ice and gale
Of hope and rapture - how they fail
As I do so, see how I sneer
As your eyes widen
As your ears shut
As you mouth opens
To retort:
All the beauty in the world
Is all around to be taken
Life too short!
Wake up, and then
witness marvels of all sorts!
I do not want
to speak of your marvels
you are the one who buried them
And as you flaunt
beauty as your anthem
You are still holding the shovel
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 7:56 AM UTC
Year’s end.
Shades collapsed a spell
Amidst nocturne Hex.
Thought wandering back to Diet Coke infusion caffeine memory, goldfish sized. The days where it ends.
Loathing, topspin grim.
Time sprout.
Shades up a touch
Among daybreak incandescence, rooibos serenade, shutting the irrationality switch off.
The days where it begins. Where I learn.
Perhaps I am myself again.
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 1:29 PM UTC
I want to become a diver
like the scuba guys in the Thai cave
risking death to save life,
going deeper into convoluted passages
of darkness to pull life from it.
I want to become a heart surgeon
transplanting energizing mitochondria
into babies’ dying hearts
to revive and save damaged cells.
Oh to receive from the gods of creativity
an infusion of fresh energy
into this old body
and renew flagging cells
with a flowering fragrance
as sweet and unique as Plumeria!
May this diving deeper
be as fruitful now as it has been
in the decisive moments
I was able to conquer pride and self
to reach out to others
whose spirits had frowns
whose life energy was down.
I know: thinking, reading and writing
are not quite enough to reach and taste
the fruits of angels.
Like the classic tension
between “faith and works”
“deeper” means a marriage
of information and application
to get transformation.
And so these moments of writing poems
and diving deeper, rising higher
for the creative spirit
are not divorced
from kindness and reaching out
in friendship, intimacy, and love,
from taking time and spending energy
beyond these meditative walls
embracing life where it calls.
I am a diver and a surgeon
a spark striker, a flame keeper
always desiring
to move
deeper, deeper, deeper.
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 9:12 AM UTC
Hot kiss in the cold rain.
A steady beat of a pulsing vein.
The fearful calm of the never the same.
The sweet aftertaste of your whispered name.
Two extremes inside one heart.
Living in the bewitched twilight of the after dark.
Made a little brighter by this perfect counterpart.
This perfect flame started by a lover's spark.
The relearning of what it means to mean.
Finding the greatest things on earth in the in between.
It's the transition of real life into a dream.
The infusion of love in this neglected bloodstream.
The perfect play of light on the perfect pair of eyes.
The look of which expels the bitter taste of goodbyes.
It's the safety rope for the deepest self dug holes.
Shes a harbinger of love, the savior of souls.
The North Star, that brightest bit of day.
That little feeling inside of you so you never lose your way.
A radiant hope in this desperate living death.
Every inch of her a place to catch your breath.
Made of the stuff of heaven, part blind trust
and perfect mixture of both love and lust.
It all boils and burns into left with only this...
A simple hot kiss,
in a cold rain.
With love flowing in every vein.
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 8:39 PM UTC
When I think of death I get scared
About how I'm not prepared
Because no one will be there
When I think of death I get lonely
And begin to act fairly phony
To get someone to hold me
When I think of death I get crazy
My frantic thinking becomes hazy
As I wonder what will finally slay me
There's a thousand ways to skin a cat
But zero ways to bring it back
There's a thousand ways to hear it scream
But zero ways to hear it dream
Death is so cunning
I hear death drumming
In the distance
Despite resistance
I can't dispute
It's absolute
I hear a death rattle
Like an overdose
That's oh so close
There's no way to battle
A lonely coyote contracts rabies
As a scared mother drowns her babies
Submerging them in death
Cleansing them of life
Until there's nothing left
She turns off the lights
She has taken what she was giving
She has taken from the living
I see death in my dreams
While I constantly flee
These nightmares
Don't fight fair
They use a brutal truth
Of undeniable proof
That this time I must spend
Will come to an end
And there will be time I waste
Despite my haste
So I seek out purpose and glory
Before loved ones must mourn me
Death flows
With time's infusion
Time shows
Death's illusion
That we'll be able to take anything with us
Or that anyone will miss us
I watch time sink down the drain
Until nothing remains
Time batters
Until I'm flatter
And only death stands tall
Behind my mortal wall
Jan 22, 2018
Jan 22, 2018 at 4:53 AM UTC