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neth jones Jul 2021
the sleeper...

riled in slumber
         her face fevered
     cussed about the terrain
                                     of a floral breeding
  bedding patterns and the print
                                        bunched in struggles
in smudges
                     an amateur trial with sisters makeup
     primal cosmetics
            make a mock
                    daubed
                                ceremony for slumber

dusty and museum are her dollworks
        an amphitheatre audience
                                 overlooming her berth
    flaunting the gallery shelves
                sustained expressionist menace
Roman eyes and Victorian ridicule
stuffed suffering with Ugly Duckling down
****** sawdust and your sullied label
they bray and they brawl
         and they sluice their gull gall
    a sick drizzle
       over the sleepers form

   from the exterior
  wild wails the weather
its being
     drubbing
  peers fragile
at the windowpane
a raid on this vulnerable sleeper
impounded in bedroom aloft
raised to meet the jet stream

she is fumbled in dreams...

  abraded adolescent swells
judder out figments
  a bleed of vandals
     siling her muted childhood
       parading the playground
          berating old
         once loved playthings
       adopting no sympathy
    adapting in favour
      of the wild riding will
        of the direful pre familiar

into the woods...

a ***** charmed breath
       dressed smartly as boy
stoppers her pathway
       insisting a gentleman's assistance
frustrates her recitations
      of grandmothers doting
           stern teachings
         like fragile pottery
            come to harm
         broken into teeth
the quick blood beating
       this nocturnal forest
     busy in heat
      bonding death
       to refract the hustling moon

a company of wolves
    fill out the clearing
not a spell too soon
their howls reverberate
             jeering
mocking their new glut
sifting followers
      from the raggle-taggle array of fools
the foolish dreamers
          rounded up
amongst them she stands
red dressed and nervous
one hand clasping
                  and sexing the other

fortified
a great jaw operates here
an excited irresponsible mastication
committed to this fairytale

...agitation in her sleep
Inspired by the movie version of The Company Of Wolves

Sile = Strain OR filter
simpler times require furious mastication
shall we fight or dine on our own enthusiasm
sad are the owls who shift their feet in the snow
remove their clothes to feel the cold
in bony holes they hoot and moan
stones are lovers in their own right
the ferns creep on mossy streets
between the sheets of ice and rock
lichens scream and cast their tiny voices
into locks of lakes and hillsides
side-swiped the prisoners swim gladly down the current
smell the jasmine in the air and whisper you are certain
that the mystery is alive and well
while cemeteries are overflowing
smoking pyres of yesterdays heartache
collecting staples on the road
stroll over bricks laid in quick drying cement
the mesentery layers are no longer
under our proprioceptive control
Robdejong Nov 2013
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Cole Morrissey Apr 2013
allocation of supreme alliteration illustrates perpetual contemplation and concentration that dictates a maligned mastication of federal incarceration of elongated complementary probation leaving you cuffed and based on baseless accusations conducted in aboriginal abbreviations masked task force concluding a course of brevity conducted in coordination then coordinating and copulating condemnation for a homeostasis of thought bought scolded eroded and shot inefficacy perpetrating cultural holocaust irrelevance somersaults galactic static of mathematical bombastic smack addict glued shut in a craft attic floral resurrection gartered section of ****** selection she moves fluid through unaltered perfection of cosmic bypass past the point of extemporaneous infinitude reciprocating fortitude of sinews congregating fabricating visuals of vitality soldering axonal membranes on the cerebellum and cortex simulation of sensual vortex demented fusion more blessed  I am that which stands to understand the incomprehensible unconsidered options of racial conflicts the screaming round of unaltered copper fiber severing life from the living only now can we debunk the years
CH Gorrie Apr 2015
On this tan cutting board
You earn your corrupted name:
“Alligator pear.”

The serrated blade
Punctures your hide—a balloon
Under a pin’s pressure,

Shades of green furling out.
I’m sure you’d prefer
Vegetable status if you developed

Self-awareness; or maybe
You’d withdraw from knowledge
Of the human type.

I trust my cooking songs—
Slowdive and Chaka Khan—
Can’t hurt you anymore

Than your predestined obliteration;
Mastication via your domesticators:
It all ends in fertilizer.

(Where you began!)

O, avocado, phantom “fruit”
Born of the self-same Life Source,
Schopenhauer’s Will,

My transient enjoyment of you
Within this vegetable salad—
An Achaean enclosed by Trojan blades—

Suffices for a life of sanctity.
Poem for day 5 of National Poetry Month.
Reflective intercessions  
With my Rabbi teaching me lessons.
Thinking about my undeserved blessings
How at times I stumble
And is it not humble .
When I think my living  is impressive
Ponder my past push play in my perspective
How can I see a mirror and just be partially reflective.
Guess its the fact that I see my body and think I have grown.
I should look into my optics..
The windows to my soul.
There are only two options
Serve God or Sheol
Deep down I know..
Life and death.
The truth is real don't suppress it
Now check the lyrical expression..
Satan is waiting
Anxiously anticipating
For me to fall he loves corrupting Gods creation..
He wants me big headed feeling myself like *******
While he eating my soul, mastication
But to Jesus my life shows dedication
Walking with God I don't identify with procrastination..
Yet time  passes...
And how do I hold God close..
Attacked by worldly passions
Time is hand and hand with deaths approach..
Control fate like when we crush crawling a roach
Its cool to be a man's man
But if Christ was one, would there have been holes in his hands
Cause clearly it was in line with Gods plan..
Holding on to what is cool its like holding on to sand ....
Pointless ...
Nevertheless..
I am giving it my best...
Reflective moments only partial when I am looking at flesh
God is using me
Satan wants to abuse me..
Entice me with demonic opportunities
Like have *** with that chick with the big *****...
Challenges but I am not stupid
No I am not stooping
To a level below Gods standard
Reflective to see if I'm walking in Gods planning
MystiqueWizzard Oct 2014
crimsons from the runaway sundown
were an open **** on the sea surface
skyline's throat ingested the fireball
whole without mastication

her fingers played hide and seek
while her unbidden tears
matched the hues of the rippling waters

and staccato sad moans lingered like dirge
above the melody of the distant surf…
Copyright ©MystiqueWizzard® 2014
Copyright ©Alberto J. Alvarez G.® 2014
spysgrandson Dec 2012
steamed broccoli calls me
its scent a melodious accompaniment
to the dance of
nitrogen and oxygen we call air
next I will torch
the dead silent flesh
of some sinless bovine beast
a sacramental conflagration
whose rich vapors will
add strings and woodwinds
to the wafting symphony
tickling my snout  
my salivary will weep  
in effortless anticipation  
of jubilant mastication  
of the flora and fauna  
of my own culinary killing fields  
that allow me
a few more waltzes  
in this soundless song of air
my last poem, the woman on the bus, was timed with the 150th anniversary of the Emancipation Proclamation and the topic was our legacy of discrimination against those of color--this poem, the repast, was inspired by...broccoli
Brenten Hargrove Mar 2012
She gave me the Plankton
The lowest lifeform of her being.
Anointed  with this discovery
I too gave in and shared with her a deep
and impenatrable solace within me.
Such truths arent always shown in sight
of others.
Nor are they whispered in ear shot,
But somehow
She burrowed right through them.
Empathy in a female form!
And not jaded and wrought with thoughts of imorality.
Day by Day she would come and take frlom me these
deviant caverns and restlless ideals sprung forth from
absence of maturity in child hood and loss of faith
as a growing man in the seamingly uncommon trait and
beauty each human claims the next has deep within.
The savage mastication of delerious greed
Usually self righteous. Sweetlt nipping at the arms of the impoverished.
the malady spreading further through while the ogres stomp their feet for attention
puffing up their chest like creatures and only for a moments pay they contract a virus
all to familiar in their learned ways.
her delicate hands grouping at the flesh id presented brushing away the small
inconsistences and as i vaguely remember now and to this day
she slipped a finger inside and in the membranes and masses an ease would fall over me.
the rush of expelling all that ales you within is a euphoria like no other.
Yet each time she would leave something behind.
Ben Kaw Dec 2017
Chewing and swallowing is a hassle.
I wish it weren't taboo to cut
open my stomach and insert the meal through the wound. Nothing would go to waste.

Mastication is unsightly. It rots your mind and teeth. It tears and mashes what you love into paste, leaving nothing but bones.

At least **** the marrow dry.

Would you eat something someone else spat out? You are food too. You are slathered in someone else's slime.

I try to slice away the mold that consumes him but the mold is all over. Even a little bit of mold on a treat like him is a sign that it's everywhere, that it's toxic, but I keep carving away, believing there is something that can be salvaged.
December 12, 2017

A prose poem about struggling to connect with a boy and wishing it were easier.
Brenten Hargrove Mar 2012
Grabbing shadows in the hole like alley way
I say
Where is the light you promised to show?
All i can see is my sillouette
Parking itself beneath the moons sigil glow
In the kitchen the size of a cabin Robust figures scramble around to service you
Grabbing Handfuls of bread to make a feast for immortality.

Shadows in the steet lights they crash and slam into eachother
scrambling to see  to it that their own lives are protected...
From who?
Just you?
The one who said feast on this and become what you see in me?
No longer can you be trusted benevolent and respectless...
So bring forth your evil and rain down your sludge
in the alley I'm grabbing footprints that lead to hospitality
Im stabbing peasants drinking essence from the stained blood that i touch
Now it seems so exact
Now i see..While dancing in this carnivorous place where i can see the moon
I've brought upon myself a strain a darkness we call doom
The sludge that you rain down covered in limbs bloodied from mastication
Is what we see in you...
A meaningless intolerance a public scream from excess bliss a carnage from the blue abyss
An alley way
The cavernous
AprilDawn Dec 2014
plate teaser
is plain food
what you desire
forget about the
ships launched
civilizations founded
tribes enslaved
so we can
just stay home
nourish our bodies
please our tongues
with
history’s  edible mysteries  
that  sail out of the  pantry
every night
  docked  on our  tv tables
for  instant gratification
upon critical
mastication
what it takes  to make our everyday food  ...highly spiced or even just "plain" as my stepson requested  once . After  a small  speech  about spices  to him ....this  poem evolved ....
Artistry Dec 2014
Formed a chemistry right on the arrival
It was such a look of admiration
Exchanged words and discovered a worthy rival
With a smile that adjusted my muscles of mastication

Two of the same belong together to form a pair
Similar hobbies and interest sparking up a passion
Focused on this feeling that cant be compared
Deep enough to give the last of my ration

She just my type, hazel eyes, woman that's bared child
Maturity, that a man can only capture
A walk that seduces made for walking down the isle
A Cool breeze with rose bushes and green pastures

Is this love or is it lust?
Is love lust? is lust love?
The art of love making triggered by your cuff
A charisma that was rare like two doves

Complexion, light skin, covered with true fashion
Compatibility got me tempted
She a all around woman that leave me bragging*
On my level enough to finish my sentence
neth jones Mar 2021
I discharge ;
   a laugh without kindle
(not from the origin of tune
         and mastication)  
from an orifice of wound

a hack of mushroomy dry fleck :
the taste touches the back of the airways
  and takes to the brain in an ail

    ideas slurry
my actions blur
I fumble about my living space
my balance
        pained ears
fall to floor
      an ug at the back my throat
I laugh from all fours
    vision reddens
unhinged at the jaw
      my neck
shoulder muscles punting
my logged and leaden head lolling
   a laugh of hurt
a ******* of saliva
        detonates on the carpet
is there blood in that  ?
sickness on the verge
                 of being brutally provided

"So dramatic !"
my wife passes me a glass of fruit juice
                             and an aspirin
         preventing the transformation
                a gentle chiding
original version ....

[a laugh without kindle
from a wound not an orifice
a mastication of ills and soothes
a not quite mushroom smell
pained ears
an ug at the back of the throat]
Niel Nov 2020
The Shaktic Yonied con-i-cative chronicle
Receptive magical majesty
Why do I insist to refuse the image
Which given to all for a being
I must, I must. but lust for sustenance
Greed gleamed gem, imaginative benefits
Illustrious acceptances held in receptacles
Analogous referrals for smarmy mastication
She: What a Be. The present of this presence
Shaking her out, letting go of these pretense
And obligative fashions
Of latching ons, to momentary ideals
Peeling them down, because permanence is the illusion

The banana tastes better without the Denial
Whittling woodwork
The sawdust agrees
We push, we push forth.. Hesitant to be forceful
Yet sometimes that's the force in it's own manifestation
When's the plan the being, and the being the plan?
Over exhausting contemplative complications
Isn't just a bean plant To eat the seed
And relish in her nourishment
But that want can be that active fault-line
Tectonically rupturing this productive structure
Impatience of the anticipating ambition
Crumbling foundation of her imaged experience

Perception is the adversary of all this malarkey
Projecting the doubt filter on how perceiving this reality
Realization of creation, the constant remembrance to strive
What's the precidence and where's my mind to?

Blind me!   Blind Me!

To forget the exhaustive duty

        Her beauty is so suiting
    Long to fruit.

To be swooned so soothingly
neth jones Apr 2
basemented   this liminal vivarium of cool moulded plastic
             with mirrors standing in for windows
and a ring of branded restaurants taking refuge at the edges
    all familiar     no surprises
the staff set up
         for the consumers morning
                      of slack mastication
      (Local chain, national, international)
  
the old-timers   glomming into clump
    benign zombies
an arrangement of fellas with dissolving jaws
  cudding over mammary notions
       untailored in sacky pallid sultana skins
    reform in a mumble
doing snailish pinball movements
            crossing and recrossing floors
         cleanly tiled for biohazard accidents
               salivating about the savoury soft foods to come

the restaurants rattle-shake-raise their security blinds

also noted
a mixed bag of people projecting
      into their smooth glowing slablets
    making out like worldly fools

also present
cropped and groomed toy security
      peering between the fronds of plastic foliage

offscreen
public bathrooms   the first struggling **** of the day

also present
a bench of  youngsters in bright blue screen matching pjs
  the four employees of sanitation
      drumming up for the shift

see also
vague happy lady in a  garish sarong
importing her holiday religion
berri metro food court / late summer 2023
We are what we think,             are we not what we see, 
  hanging-tight to that which is thought        to be known.
   Remember the span of time before a       Christmas when it is
     spend, spend, spent.    Now home, cooking, but not happily.
      How many, hopeless, long for the clean-up and swallow
        quick, choosing a later *******-of-the-mind
           rather than a mastication in the now.

The happy full of bliss, fooling self and others, 
  the sad grief hidden.                     Grieving a earlier time when all
    felt good only all being false memory.  Nostalgia. Vagueness,
      holding a bad hand, bluffing in dark glasses.  Chips all-in                                      

The trees that fill the Amazon toppling,     animals and humans
  scatter like roaches missing the boat.           Wishing to the last,
    to conquer the earth. Hoping to be the longest living the life
      of riley, imagining a greatness, a false feeling, a well meaning,
        fooling dream.

The motel rented, a mattress, home to blood-******* ticks,
  hitch-hiking home to invest in an I who believe to be blessed to
    travel. Who's the sucker? Who is the free-bird hanging in the air?
      God clothes in love sublime, feeding those bits of spirit eaten
        with chop sticks and plum sauce, the meal sliding down the
          Cross to be met with intestinal fortitude. (if only)
            Wits in terminal tumultuous slavery.
            
I am Blue, I am not so new, I am the 'egg-man', I am me, I am you
striving to come-together over what to do.       I offer to the poor
   deciding who is worthy and them do I bless with coinage or
     paper taking no receipt for taxing relief. Taking no time or
       courage to meet that one God put in my path, in my face.

No time is the right time. No time hung on the pale-blue wall.
  No time clung to the wrist. No time on the bed-side table.
    No time in the machine that queues robotically.
      Compressed time, an eternal 'now' passed over, missed.
        A sad time in want of a glad time. A bad time's visitation in a
          hallow human shell. Cold. Cold and lonely in Winter's dark.

A home-run hit clear out of Fenway Park, bouncing off the
  windshield of the car you had earlier parked. Looted life, stolen
    goods? Goods!        What good are goods if they be more weight
      that  can be carried.

Parading down the narrow street twilling a baton,
  knee action bending, a goose-stepping military follows.
    For the love of a
     God I live in, free me from this charade. Hold up that Holy day,
       when all creation lay at my feet. Dominion missed,
         an ego with a twisting, a devil in those mathematical details.
           Pressed hard in the cranium, controlling a baton, stared upon
             by shivering parents and children rushing,
               gathering candies thrown from floats
          
Insects who would have one day rule the world become food for
animals with a human mind and a weaken soul. Feasting. Recipe's
   abound, bugs for breakfast, bugs for lunch, Haggis eaten in dark
    Wintery five o'clock nights. Insects prepared in the most curious
      ways.

Cockroaches, bedbugs and me.
with apologies to john lennon, irving
Heaven is kind,Earth is lovely,
Even life is good full of pleasure,
The winter and haze building conducive serene autum,
Hearts rhythm melodies,
As celebration sits upon various corners of the earth.

The crawling beasts colleague with fowls
Having been defeated in snares of predatory human,
Having had knife segmented them in separate parts.

Hosting by exciting pots sitting on fire,
As spoon peeps through the sky,
By the remote hands of human,
tossing them in parts round about the chamber and corners of the ***.

With longing eyes i sit,
With watering mouth i yawn awaiting mastication,
With stretched neck I peep into the opening ***.
The citizens of my stomach
singing and dancing full of anticipation.
hmmm my appetite is aroused.
Oh! How pleasant the christmas Eve?
above named orthodontist
   crowned specialist
   exemplary de jure by this dad
sans perfecting offset dentition

   of me daughter – shana – who had
quite noticeable gapped teeth –
   just the opposite when i was a lad
and pro bono courtesy

   of above named orthodontist –
   worthy of a regal pad
(okay perhaps i exaggerate just a tad)

performed prestigious dental skill with her band
of admirable merry technicians,
   who possess grand
ever so agile and gentle
   to affix and/or adjust with each hand

after countless visits
   viz number of years shifted closed spaces
   re: wide spaces did stand

brackets wired together where
   squarely rooted choppers stood askew
the completed effect = a priceless smile
   tooth thy punim – a beau
tee full young lady (this comment
   unbiased from me – math a ewe)
biological father of thine lass in question,
   where time flew

while transformation
   her dazzling smile grew
a changed ****** profile –

   admirable how maxillary masters did hue
artfulness to align mastication via calculus
   sans perfecting her bite they knew

thus this papa feels ever so thankful
   for prettifying mine offspring
with courtesy service per each appointment
   thee progeny i did bring

no matter that brackets broke loose –
   yes in some cases from chew wing
gum or eating hard foodstuffs  - fear of a skull ding
never occurred, whereby
   anticipatory anxiety expended 4 naught ting

mortis rigors of extraction,
   x-rays affecting dental precision
would be impossible without the decision
for the supreme doctor –
   who owned a schooled vision
to envision
vis a vis what provision

and necessary measures
   to manipulate dentition
   toward per mission
whereby maybe a minor revision
made to witness brilliant

   megawatt smile giving admission
of heightened sunny disposition
primed to embark on successful
   lip smacking dating expedition
anointing shana aubrey harris –
   who completed the biting inquisition.
Flossing detritus -
this is LIFE.

Extreme
mastication -
bowel breath
death.
Dorian Zorne Oct 2016
Have you ever tried cooking raw flesh?
The sound of searing skin never gets easier to hear
I can’t put on my headphones because the noises leaks through
My face starts melting into pools of blood, but there’s still a smile there
Snapping, breaking, crunching, mastication
I’ll tear two people apart just to sew them together
Legends run from my name
Pearly razors rest beneath my crooked grin
Ever wonder what scares the devil?
Well, that’s me
I’m the scariest ******* to ever have come out of a nightmare
I’m a jigsaw man of horror just waiting for you to open the box
But the gentle thud, when the meat hits the cooker
It makes me cringe
The symphony of a burning soul
That haunts my dreams
Excruciating nausea goes hand in hand with the vexatious sizzle of charring skin
God, grant me the power to break this curse
I can’t handle all of this
David Lessard Oct 2018
By their fruits you shall know them
the best fruit brings satisfaction
to mind and mouth and gut
foul fruit brings a different reaction.

The sweetness of wine is a delight
the mastication of a fig is pleasure
all bad fruit is cast aside, like sin
the ripeness of a pear is a treasure.

Watch your fruit as it still grows
cultivate it as you would your life
when it's at the peak of its perfection
you can partake of it without a knife.

Mold your life, as you would your fruit
don't neglect it, and please, don't let it rot
follow his commandments as a guide
just as his beloved son on earth has taught.

Be a light to those that do not know the way
be kind, be faithful and be observant
so in the afterlife, he will say to you
"Well done, my good and fellow servant."
gus Jan 2019
Sadistication and its emulation,without mastication
will equal multiplication!  
This frustration without contemplation will have variation
  on devastation!    

A harsh abbreviation yet no dispensation can be given
after creation of devastation!
A simple collation.  

Without diversification of sadistication,
which requires administration.
The vocation of sadistication without animation
may be cause for consternation!

Although the occupation of sadistication
doesn’t mean emulation!

Relation of vocation doesn’t mean cultivation of sadistication for any duration or location for elevation of this abomination!!

But all configurations of populations to avoid
annihilation should suffer declaration of negation.
NO procrastinations!
Sadistications further elevations and diversifications
of annihilations, in all nations!!  All nations!!!
And in a pinch reluctantly talk to yours truly,
a very reformed Jew rarely attends Synagogue,
(he who cannot be named) hails from Prague
offtimes provides a wonderful monologue,
whereby his eloquence usually finds me agog.

Propinquity between scribe
of Schwenksville (Pennsylvania)
heavily shuns engaging in diatribe
loathes bombastic, egotistic,
imperialistic, narcissistic, terroristic...
zealot trumpeting art of the deal
if necessary even coaxing bribe.

I would be up to the task and not averse
to extemporize unless stage fright did curse
ambition to chat up intellectual conversation
and/or solemnly soliloquizing regarding
recent deceased driven away courtesy hearse
(yup another coronavirus/COVID-19 statistic)

despite heroic measures
exerted by selfless nurse,
whose tears trickled down flushed cheeks,
while her lips she did purse
methinks she wondered if pandemic
would get worse.

Oratorical predilections quake
these lovely bones, which at lxii ache
after lugging a load of Bananas
after me and the missus did betake
ourselves to purchase said fruit at Landis
(841 Gravel Pike, Schwenksville, PA 19473).

The main rhyming reason
for jaunt at aforementioned market
unquenchable thirst for riches to slake
aware improbable odds winning powerball
nevertheless bought two tickets,
fat and/or slim chance reality would wake
one average dirt poor Joe Biden his time.

A lofty song Enya doth sing
plying her lilting heavenly voice
titled "Marbled Halls"
for no rhyme nor reason came to mind,
perhaps momentarily fantasizing
how gobs of moolah tickle me fancy,
although the lyrics strongly in apropos
especially opening line -
I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls
With vassals and serfs at my side...

Such pipedream regarding
winning bucket loads of cash,
would make monetary woes
in an instantaneous flash
mine dentures no longer
will futilely grind and gnash,
cuz I would undergo oral surgery
and simultaneously acquire

mush sought after gumption,
where dental implants
could offer million dollar smile
mastication boring full force
while I monstrously, yet easily mash
the most unpalatable pop slop
made with tender loving care
courtesy the missus.

Selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors
play key role to alleviate paroxysms
debilitating bouts of anxiety and panic attacks
wracked these lovely bones
during their roaring twenties
severely impinging potential to relish
joys and sorrows present within mein kampf

vast stretches of life sabotaged
courtesy mental health challenges,
thus I acknowledge miracle of modern medicine
particularly prescription medication
(iterated within first line of this verse),
which allows, enables and provides
blessed escape illness noggin tortured.
Jane Aug 2021
Melancholy is muted, savoury today and soft textured, silky soup and no mastication necessary for tired throat
A strip of tension my forehead recognises as the sand remembers footprints awhile
Tracing whispers to fears and uncertainties does little to loosen the screws but rationale is oil slick and lemon rind, acidic onion and ginger heat
Delicious - when you're in the mood
And my stomach is lead heavy with poisoned morsels I feed myself to dampen the hunger pangs, no nutrition just teeth chasing satisfaction, sensory reaction to crunch and chew and swallow
My sinking does not undulate with peristaltic push and pull of muscle, it's quicksand drowning on dry land and suffocation burial in unmarked ground
Yet unabrasive
White bread islands with butter pooling atop red warning, red warming, red hot, ready or not
I think I'll go to bed hungry
irksomely chafe and dig
(analogous to a bit size backhoe -
contracted courtesy local builders
Gambone Brothers) inside lip
on left side front of mouth
not surprisingly creating
quasi irritated sore welt
(as if I got smacked in the face

from out of the blue)
achingly painful dilemma
particularly whenever I bite and chew food,
which compromised mastication
seriously prompted eating soft
(goo goo gaga baby) with no pablum,
or yours truly switching
to a liquified diet of worms.

Aforementioned minor
physical oral ailment
reminiscent when yours truly
donned, sported, and touted braces
(on two separate occasions)
to double necessary rites of passage
since yours truly
glutton for punishment
while segueing from adolescence
into young adulthood

gifted with moderate sized overbite,
yet not full fledged
buck teeth the first go around,
where metal brackets
and/or little pins pierced, jabbed,
gouged, et cetera
into tender gummy flesh
generally unpleasant nasty encounter
super tramping as
cheaply tricked out human pin cushion
****** well right.

Methinks of the hours of veritable torture
spent seated in orthodontic chair,
where initial appointment
found me situated with maw opened
for stretches of time
that would be dwarfed
by subsequent pluperfect future hours
getting a numb bony ***
while veritably held hostage
courtesy the vise grips of dental technician.

I can never forget
experiencing preliminary step
into requisite initiation
getting an eventual smile
worth a million bucks
firstly to create gap (wide enough
to drive a mack truck thru),
which spacers essentially
little rubber squares
(at most an inch long)
to allow, enable
and provided leverage buyout
paid for by a pretty penny
prior to getting metal bands
bonded and insured to pearly whites.

Adjustment to being fitted
for dentures didst overly bite
recounted, recircled, and recapitulated
analogous when jaws underwent restructuring
where aforesaid maxillofacial territory
felt subjected to miniature
jackhammer and dynamite
forthwith adumbrated as memory takes flight
re-envisioning maximum headroom
affecting yours truly experiencing whiplash

as countless hands practically reached
into me ******* plunging
dentistry implements and gloved fingers
into buccal cavity
from soaring wuthering height
nearly choking yours truly
expediting at expense of mine cavum oris
carrying out veritable
fishing and hunting expedition
courtesy overhead jacklight

figuratively yanking tooth
and nail mustering might
allowing, enabling and providing opportunity
for tomorrow's dental practitioners
essentially dental students namely neophyte
took stab at a subjected human Guinea Pig -
as relegated to scientific experimentation
I tried to be agreeable and polite
at the mercy of said novitiate quite right,
now crafting epistle as a toothless troglodyte.

     Never during the story of my life asper present moment, whereby this body electric then witnessed LVIII celebrations of a womb dar full in utero gestation, and subsequent exit per birth canal in one direction ejected like some **** the torpedo or other lobbing hand grenade, or discharging any other type of ballistic military ordnance and after twice undergoing beautification of ma smile; first enduring gagging on quick hardening cement as benchmark impressions, spacers, thence soon followed by wearing braces.
     Membership to this adolescent rite of passage entailed requisite name calling as the victim remained mum imposed incommunicado what with wires that jabbed, pricked, and stuck every square inch of gums teasing the tillerman tongue felt furrowed plow as soft tissue became abundantly blistered chafed, and diced raw.
     Numerous teeth extractions later (which did smarted my wisdom), the drill mongering requisition team (incorporating a rooted right bitewing conspiracy), said prisoner interrogation attained the pinnacle of pain per practiced collaboration between vaunted, sainted long in the tooth professionally smocked specialists.
     These accredited, certified, and licensed torturers frenziedly insouciantly cackled with hair rising, maniacal, spine tingling pleasure while intermittently interrogating strait jacketed anesthetized subjected patient.
     Thee prisoner of Zenda implanted with gag reflex additionally besieged to a battery of expensive costly abuse.
     Such quaint ratified regular rigmarole included suctioning lips til dry as sawdust in preparation for (not to be mist witnessing open mouthed wide world) recalcitrant subject handily restrained as he/she barely weathered unpalatable quintessentially royally smitten to the nerve.
     This electric kool acid test basically pitched the heavily sedated sorely saddled seated subject into a novel threshold of oral suffering.
     The confederated legion of amalgam hated plaque attackers banded teeth forcing a tectonic shift of pearly whites to relocate closing gaps, where uber an crowdsource rank and file groupon identity guard did lyft suspected gumption, hence a healthy dose of x-rays served up to nip in the bud involving any tongue in cheek intervention, when perfectly viable molars thinned i.e. uprooted courtesy of orthodontic gang.
     Now incremental movement could be undertaken pursuant impressing well-brushed aides de camp.
     Thus temporarily crowns vis a vis provisional proviso practitioners of the villainous periodontal disease (qua gingivitis) stitching cavity where exposed synapses earned the chair rushed survivor of fiendish, ghoulish, and insidious enamel (tartar) scraping chieftains earning kudos sans at successfully foiling dental caries, plus serving as grandee enamel polisher.
   All that excruciating agony iterated above, now finds me shaking this mangy hirsute, (albeit thinning) head in consternation, frustration and induction, whereby microbial demons exercised, foisted and galvanized necessity to suffer.
     Interestingly enough, these choppers, dentures, false dentate much more pleasing that the real bone marrow wrought teeth courtesy of many a fraternal gauntlet hugger mugger.
     Maxillofacial surgery and wisdom teeth extraction plus abiding by the codas, edicts and general indemnity keeping American Dental Association in lockstep with noblesse oblige purveyors who tout regular dental hygiene.
     This new fangled cusp cutting prosthetic revolution per anatomical equipage that allows, enables and provides the means to return to masticating brought protracted hermetically sealed dissimulation within the noggin of this more tell male, who confesses to be a non student within the hierarchy of a bricks and mortar storied (perhaps ivy coated) institution of higher learning on account of rampant mental debility hashtagged diagnosis of Schizoid Personality Disorder cobbles, hobnails, and mangles any ability to function within the formal classroom. Case in point comprises the twelve years of veritable enslavement while barely getting promoted from one grade to the next.
     Even though handed a high school diploma XL (pipelined) traipsing orbitz ago around the sun, this contemplative, furtive, and intuitive lvii chap experienced horrendous difficulty ******* mine faux pas figurative heals up until the recent present. The acquiescence to relinquish the prospect to batten down anxiety and panic strewn hatches turned the tide, and found me giving up the good fight.
     A congenital biochemical mutation (I cannot expound on the minutiae of amino acid, enzymes, polymer, et cetera) that wrought havoc viz zit head upon thyself when in the throes of adolescence, despite thine late mum purportedly experiencing NO complication with me birth as a full term healthy baby boy.
Whit Howland Jul 2021
Morning
began with a birdsong

nothing fancy
some rhythmic chirping

but it sufficed
and gave me the impetus to float

not slog
through the day

we are what we choose
to eat and digest

whether it be aural
or through mastication

whit howland © 2021
A word painting with a straightforward message.

— The End —