"miasmic" poems
Ganders...gargantua--ensconced in far-fetched space...
(attrition)...LOOK AT THAT LINE...LOOK AT IT...
ROUND THE CORNERS OF PERPETUITY...predilections.
A soul's inalienable fracas...on bend and knee...hop...and
whoop...miasmic gargoyles poppy-wreathed...
for all-too-lucid dreaming...chanting etceteras of bare riff raffs.
Golden breastplates...weeping willow wings...empurpled--
fending fang trumping lines of: yuck, cluck, claw and kook.
...Listless eyes...alphabetize...think a blind oracle's informed
absentia...holy and bovine.
Redolent airs...perspiration of spume's most distancing shore--
eyepieces for the specks and logs in the oculos of brothers
and sisters.
As dust to dust doth not settle...heart's yonder score...nay cease
of interstice...off-world amorousness.
Gather ye yarrow sticks...hurl them at days...roofless arcady...
live into the spectra of their worlds, come friend or foe...Fate's foundling.
Lines strung as prayer beads...curs-ed beads...forget-me-nots
enclosed in letters baiting Long Farewells, in the great literary
correspondence of authored and Author.
...Ye gorgeous gargoyles come perch and push.
Persona non grata...the wide world...unisex prodigal...All--returneth.
LOOK AT THAT LINE...LOOK AT IT...(attrition)...ROUND THE
CORNERS OF PERPETUITY.
NEBULAEIC FANFARE...come perch to push...lo...ANGELS!
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 12:35 PM UTC
*Shimmering, miasmic waves
of suffocating heat,
bounce off the scorching pavement
and distort the tortured street.
A toxic stew of asphalt sticks
to every tire and shoe,
as tar begins to bubble
'Tis "The Texas summer goo".
Oppressive heat beats downward
from relentless glaring sun.
Be wary of Apollo's malice!
Summer's just begun.*
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 10:44 AM UTC
By your leave, let I slumber once forever..
And my moment shall never realize itself.
My portfolio possess no wherewithal wager,
My seat of affection is now dull and rough.
Sepsis leak a foggy black since blight is nigh,
The sea is feeble whilst the sun shine naught.
The corpse of venal men flow unhealthy dye,
Henceforth pervade the soil with miasmic malt.
Lest my mistimed demise be not remembered,
Shall the script mark y'all failed to deter abuse.
Today my ember is snuffed and plundered,
On the morrow a bright star will rise, I muse.
Heed thine auguries borne from frigid stupor,
Vicious tendrils cascade upon my rigor mortis.
O gray vision as though gazing through vapor,
Hear that silent gasp veiled under my spicy lips.
Aug 28, 2010
Aug 28, 2010 at 5:11 AM UTC
Terrestrial flame, inner pandemic
Euphoric feeling, pain so miasmic
Anatomic design, enduring torture,
Return now my sorrows, dark, true and pure,
Searing red tears, dreadful desires,
Obscuring vision, blackness transpires,
Fading views of the world, moment of truth,
Bestowment of death, trouble of youth,
Lament is the few, who whisper the name,
Obedient to fate, the wanderers blame,
Obsessed with the blood, hearts final cry,
Dawning his last moment, he wonders why,
Jan 25, 2010
Jan 25, 2010 at 10:27 PM UTC
In a blanket of breath now pleasantly swathed
Our bodies made broken; prostrate in the fog
Exhumed from the boughs of tree-tops so balmy
On alabaster bones that tremble quite calmly
With thoughts of tomorrow, our miasmic today
That in wistful contemplation is thoroughly dismayed
Like the sullen, windy chimes of a church bell that rings
In the hardened heart of winter, on frost-bitten strings
Which frail, arboreal appendages, with nimble purposes pluck
To indulge the dulcet beds, in which our thoughts are tucked
In a licentious yawn that drifts, from scentless, sleepy shrouds
Like azure ships now sailing, through lofty, lilting clouds
Our pendulous hands still pawning these passionate decrees
With fervent fears to consummate your swiftly slumbered vestige
Atop my flesh, all slick with sweat, and in shadows sorely rapt
The mellifluous hum of reverent sight, through keyholes quickened pass
My heart is estranged from the banal constraint of this stagnant mortal coil
Held aloft in the piercing plea of love’s unbidden toil
All visions captive to the subtle sway of your chest now undulating
Like waves that crash, in rhythms vast; my thoughts, they are invading
Urgency deemed, from unconscious form, in sharp pangs of desire
The crease between your lips, the hand heavy on my hip: the nuances in which I am mired
The idiosyncrasies of you like a poem that is repeatedly folded
And jettisoned into my open mind, where these precious admissions molded
Taking form in tangible caress, to envelop with silken shivers
On the sill of windows wide where lonesome flowers withered
Thus proffered throat, in porcelain quiver, where stilted lungs concealed
In tear-wrought arrows, tempered and true, fly with errant zeal
To pin my ruminant heart upon this ragged, beggar’s sleeve
And chain my weightless body, from where it floats among the eaves
Oct 28, 2011
Oct 28, 2011 at 8:29 PM UTC
It is in our all for we are all and in a tunnel coiled
An entwining miasmic kaleidoscope we call our entirety
We are a collective phantasmagoria of escapeless toil
Lost in ourselves and forewent to society
The quark to the universe the everything to the quark
All beauty too big to look and too small to see
An everything of light yet we have sight only to the stark
Within the bleak there is only me for you and you for me
The god’s perform their song in the foundations of all formed
Waves sway and quaver thrumming from an insoluble craw
One note un-precise and we’re left ever so more deformed
Each of us hear it differently yet as you with mine all I can hear is yours
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 11:31 AM UTC
It had discovered
A small shaft of darkness
Wriggling from the pain of light
A mere whispered phantom
Haltingly treading a miasmic path
Continuous dewdrops of ocean water
Leaking from saddened face
And its twisted self
Enveloped in putrid strongholds
Of offensive thoughts
Though veiled in
The absence of light
It has met its match,
A burning flame,
The flowering torch
Of another heart
With moth- like trance
It has followed this luminous being
And become itself
An entity of inspiration
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 4:12 AM UTC
A cross section of humanity
lends itself to prose in gross
here, in the airport, sanity
has given up, the ghost
Jesus just walked by
followed by a femme fatale
a lady on her way back home
and a guy they just call, Al
A miasmic gathering of souls
crossections of the human race
to see and/or behold
in or outer, space
Ethnicity oblivious
no one black and no one white
moving through the airport
all are odd, or strange
And every one
just
right
Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 8:30 PM UTC
My dear friend, don't seek to follow me
for I'm off to the land of broken promises and pity,
within its river of alcohol I wish to drown my sorrows -
upon the black pearl that is Heartbreak Heaven City.
It's semi-mythical river runs through a jungle
of grimy brickwork and choked smog -
a city that revels in its own pollution
so much so, it's many people suffocate beneath it's caustic fog.
And this river, of which I speak,
acts as a candle for the deaf and the blind -
no one would ever dare to live in this city
if it weren't for its promises of prosperity pushing them from behind.
Sometimes there's a brief lapse where the fog lifts,
and people sip the river's waters beneath a moonlit sky,
alas, they only end up gorging and passing out -
intoxicated, they fall into the shadowy depths to drown and die.
Oh, tonight I venture out to its miasmic bank,
sadness and anger so intense, my brain it burns and chars -
upon the twelfth stroke I will descend into it's surface,
and my soul will rise to the everlasting stars...
Apr 21, 2015
Apr 21, 2015 at 5:48 PM UTC
as i close my eyes
a land so bizarre appears before my sight
full of mystics, stillness, and trickery
and this hollow heart of mine
sprout the **** of curiosity
how could this be so real?
a flash before my eyes
the sky lifts me up so high
and stretches the arms of mine
like birds soaring up the sky
i flap them side by side
with my heart in wonderment, I ponder
reflects before my very eyes
an aesthetic resemblance of mine
with great affection gazes at me
with awe our eyes meet and merge
lil flowers sprout out from between the ******* of ours
a chest of exquisite embellishment
this strange land far away
where i set my foot with ease
waters crystallize and dance with elegance
flowers and trees smile and breathe
how could this be so real?
then suddenly...
darkness fell on me
mystic land decayed
waters ran blood and miasmic
flowers and trees called out death
i trembled in fear I want to flee
but the grass clasp my legs impossible to leave
Apr 27, 2017
Apr 27, 2017 at 6:36 PM UTC
Miasmic clouds strewn through the air
Inside our minds
A wishing well
Such things have known
Much hail and storm
Insanity thrown through the clouds
Could show us when and show us how
Could clouds answer me or will I
Live depravity
Out of water spring my feet
Under clouds
Dive my leaf; to the ground so
Soundlessly
Feb 2, 2012
Feb 2, 2012 at 2:39 PM UTC
Come with me, we'll go and see
a world through eyes of despair,
where children cry their tears of blood
that rains from out the air.
Where bodies lie in every stye
that wraps 'round every bend,
and broken dreams lay in the streets,
never to flourish again.
Harpies flare through razor air,
and harlots ire the land.
Stay your breath, lest shall you fall
unto their starving hands.
Screams of fear ring loud and clear;
cacophonies tremble the wind.
Banshee wails doth trail the gales;
listen to the gospels of sin.
Gaze unto horizon's hue,
so beautifully bleak, and black.
Miasmic decay corrupts the dawn,
and chokes the daylight back.
The countryside's nowhere to hide,
for there's where cannibals dwell.
Marrow, bone and bloodied flesh
fill the outskirts of our Hell.
Drops of flame akin to rain
fall from out the sky
from toxic clouds of blackened smoke;
we're all gonna fuckin' die.
What say you, oh filthy shrew,
shall we sign you in?
Come inside, you've naught to fear.
Come bask within the sin.
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 6:27 AM UTC
When summer pierces earth and dying root,
And winds the golden-honeyed flowers sweep,
And liquor rays bathe every bud and shoot,
Newly awakened from the depths of sleep,
When pollen springs forth in white, seasoned clouds,
Miasmic dreams, like visions, pure and sweet,
When gentle rainy mist the land enshrouds,
And tiptoes cross the meads on silent feet,
When sweet, ambrosial bloom shall sprout and bud,
And throw their dreamy breaths to weave a sigh
And cast their milky sap, and sport sweet blood,
And touch the Heavens that bedight the sky,
Tis time, when fresh and pure is all of love
But still I worry, for seasons all move
Dec 27, 2013
Dec 27, 2013 at 10:50 AM UTC
This wasn’t the first time
daddy had asked Mary to come into his room,
but I was so surprised
that she called daddy by his first name
but I didn’t say a word.
That mad look in daddy’s eyes
shone as bright as those sprinkled stars
as he made his way beside the bed.
“Come now darlin’,
don’t make me beg for ya.
I need my wife tonight I can’t help it.”
His breath puffed out
in waves of sour miasmic *****
as he bent down low to kiss Mary on her head.
He stayed there
just seeming to breath in her hair for a moment.
Mary stayed stock still
in the bed rubbing my head
telling me it would alright.
I didn’t know what was happnin’.
“Can’t you see the girls are scared tonight?”
Her voice rattled horasly,
as if she was scared but she lay there firm.
Daddy looked around suddenly
as if tryin to find something lost.
“Where’s Kylie?” he asked
scratchin his head
as if that made him think better.
He peered into the dark,
his eyes squinted
a bit as he tried to see through the dark.
He shook his head
but I sat up and said
“right here daddy.”
I went up to touch his arm but Mary held me back.
“Don’t touch him.” She whispered to me,
then patting me on my arm until I quieted.
“I don’t know Don,” Mary said to him,
“Probably out like usual
lookin’ up at those stars again.
You know how she loves her stars.”
Daddy laughed again
then took Mary’s hand
pullin her up from the bed.
“Come on now Martha.”
He cooed kissin her on her hand.
“You’ve got to leave the girls to sleep on their own.”
Mary tried to resist but daddy only laughed lacing his fingers in hers.
I lay still that night,
Haley held tight on my arm cryin silently.
She was thirteen
and kept whisperin over and over
that it wasn’t right what he did to her.
“Why are you cryin?” I asked her,
but she only told me to hush and close my eyes.
It must have been about an hour later
when I heard sounds commin from the other room.
The headboard was hitting against the wall
and daddy was grunting while Mary’s voice,
small was whimpering, almost cryin.
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 2:31 AM UTC
I raise the bone up to my two juicy lips
and I purse.
Here comes the carcinogen, the miasmic smoke,
the old ghost.
But, my
love,
it's not like it
was.
My love,
it's
not like it was.
I pick into the basalt black, like a boss.
I exhale,
mining verses from my vernacular
like
poisonous
metal.
But, my
love,
it's not like it
was.
It's nothing like it was,
and I'm perfectly fine.
In a manner of speaking.
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 11:05 PM UTC
The self-centered thief
It takes when you have nothing to give
Then tramples on your bed
It creeps its way into your head
And restrains your arms then hoards each leg
You're forced to listen and wait
Its caress much like a spider's walk
It sears and burns, your rage pours forth
All while your loved ones vacate
Blaming you and your struggling might
Its breath miasmic, past its venomous bite
It ends by ****** your fate
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 3:08 AM UTC
It starts with a frown,
she and I ー a discovery.
Every exchange after, found
with more frowns and
peeking teeth.
Strange, this feeling ー
you desiderate
and envy,
but it finds you only
if you'll look away.
It latches and bubbles:
*Of cool raindrops on concrete pavements,
bare feet and no umbrellas allowed.*
So like the rain, I dive.
Inimitable; Intrepid.
What is poison
if the antidote is held?
Why fear the fall
when such heights are reached?
But dear Assuagement of the dive,
meet the pavement of life.
The miasmic tension
and
polar principles
and
frangible hearts
reduced to glass shards-
and feet still bare.
The once melodic hums
now tearing sounds
that pierce and vilify
reason.
The once curious frowns
now baring fangs
that warp and end
beauty.
If only I knew...
Oh dear poisonous nectar,
please,
cure and claim my fate.
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 8:33 PM UTC
Uncouthly, the freeze of late-february did start to wane,
and from the canals that run through the city of Manchester
mists slowly arose, along with degrading auras of heavy disdain.
As pubs and nightclubs alike
shuttered up and locked down upon the cusp of early morn,
slimy creatures slowly ascended, treading the shadows of the streets for easy prey to ****** before the oncoming dawn,
stray felines and dogs, the most common of their foods,
thy amphibious monstrosities leaving behind nothing but bones -
and upon the second night after, their hunger sought more,
so they snuck into unknowing buildings and stole children from their homes.
Now what happened on that morning after was most queer;
these children were not found dead nor reduced to corpses, but in the strangest of places -
standing upon the edge of the canal's miasmic bank,
untouched 'xcept for the stretch of skin that now covers their faces.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 4:12 AM UTC
Freuds lament meant that a pen is a *****
I comment
Hi I am Sebastian
I’m an addict
Addicted to frantic erratic language
In what language am I babbling in - can’t quit - can't resist
Grappling this black pen with smeared hands
Grasp the ******* thing
And ink
Panicking again
Where squids swam
Here stands a weird man
Trapped in a stare match
With miasmic abyss
It’s scary ****
As hearing camera flashes
Dancing bare ***
Unaware as to
where the camera is
Can’t fathom it
An ensnaring act
Grabbing talons
Talented career paths
Disappear fast
With mirror battling
The mere craftsmanship
And mad man’s wit
Embarrassing as still asking, unaware as to what is happening
With clear answers apparent still Years pass years after still ain’t clear after asking this
This is maddening
Reappearing patterns still amass
And thinking different things will happen if in fact I can persist
The same **** happens
That ***** batshit
What if
This madness catches
That is bad
As lit matches
Catching mattress lint
I fear I did damage to my
Amygdala oblongata as a kid
Again and again
Damm habits
Still
I amass amazing
Paragraphs saturations
A hue is soothing
To translucent humans
Like my time as a youth spent
School bench doodling
Pulled the blue pen through the movements maneuvered cerulean loops drew huge dudes and exuberant protruding ***** for my youths amusement
Nowadays I fetching the meddling
Red pen sent from heaven making corrections, leveling mistakes begging for a reckoning, making more of less, settling scores, enabling communications less deafening, less beckoning, helping to get a sense of my best and when i left my element. what I might write with my white pen is
silence,
enticing I think.
Mar 31, 2018
Mar 31, 2018 at 7:25 AM UTC
wading through fields drowned in blood
i listen to the sound of my pounding heart
dissolve into the carrion-song
of the ravens
while you shimmer in the glow
of my absence sipping dandelion wine
from divinity itself.
do the gods love you for it
as much as i?
**** them.
it doesn't matter.
their might will be mud
and they will choose oracles
from flowers reaching for indifferent sky
in a future far beyond the reach of
their miasmic mythologies
while you smile at me behind the same glass
of wine.
again, **** them.
Apr 8, 2019
Apr 8, 2019 at 6:32 PM UTC
In my sleep
I will dream of unborn
Realities
But now
I have woken
Though am I still asleep?
I am wrong placed
This expected place
Unexpected
Someone has taken my body
And I am in theirs
I am attached
To this experience
In a most disconnected manner
We ancient beings
Travelling within fleshy physicalities
Are novices
Wading through miasmic soup
Holding our breath
Plunging for meaning
Nothing but ambulant meanderers
Rays of energy
Pass unnoticed
Through our cartilaginous joints
And groaning sinews
As fellow bipedals
Led by hemispheric glossities
March army like
Into diurnal rhythmicals
Heart warmth
Lifts deep dungeon dwellers
From their plight
And sweet juices of hope berries
Revitalise the old
This is the Eden foundry
This, an altered nirvana
This but a displaced unreality
Is our temporary
Habitat
Our strange
Fangled
Home
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 4:24 PM UTC
Fell through the alligator’s snout
Picked his teeth clean out
Landed on a duelling banjo's tail
Herein a Minneapolis trail
Piously thumbed a black crested wave
Buffeted by the pick up from the bridge
Seized by turbulent string vibrations
Singing to survive; drowning in awkward silence
Cajoled and plucked on a tight-rope score
Pounding pain within lifes neck
Mics backfiring: boardwalkers selfless feedback
Toe tapping, heel thumping discontent
Fighting for humanity
Evil running through crashing cymbals
Miasmic lyrics pushing to survive
Trade winds heading south
Thrown ashore in the gutter
Soaked from harmonica to soul
A sliding quiver shackles societies skiffle
Now climb your fretboard to heavenly freedom
Those who cannot breathe
Legislate in due measures: equal rights and respect
Civilisations blues are out of tune
Levitate the knee of wilful contempt
Dec 10, 2021
Dec 10, 2021 at 9:28 AM UTC
Morning flower, mild light,
misted and
diffuse scents drift
as kites.
Dew kissed and cool,
pale air through a
cloudy pool,
over our small patch
of earth.
The brushing grass gives
us a place to grow,
to search for
the heavens, like the rose.
You are so beautiful,
you are
nature's gift.
You are my sun,
beaming and raining
blankets of warmth,
but you also bring the mist.
The bond between us
will always endure storms
and sense shadow ghosts of
miasmic forms.
Sometimes thunder booms
and looms in the
distance while the space
between us sizzles with
white radiance.
But we plunge strong roots
and emerge from the
nurturing ground of love;
our love that will not pass
away but will
always spin and swim
in the vastness of space.
Our love
will always return
to the sun,
the warmth,
the life and spring well
of creation.
We will always grow here --
we will rise and die and rise
again --
on our little
patch of heaven.
Feb 27, 2018
Feb 27, 2018 at 9:59 PM UTC