"millipede" poems
They crawl hands and knees!!!
Lacklustered fanatic's,
Groupies of needleshooter's and powder transits,
Their noses they wipe off fairied dust!!!
Their skin fragile and delirious!!!
A spoon to copper boil,
Eyeglasses to split the sun ,
Sticky fingers to stop and go..
Bloodied toast!!!
They cringe their pearlies,
And wobbled by to and fro waves,
Their here for today,
Gone for tomorrow!!!
A vein full of sorrows!!!
A hitch hiker of fertile roads,
Though,
Thy load leadeth one down to the pit!!
Within millipede's of Spit,
To drippeth the argot that slurreth them!!
Taketh thy hector out of thy baggage,
Thou serf of emptiness!!
For thy plentiness thou seeketh,
Lies beyond the ark,
Behind the purple shroud!!
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 9:12 PM UTC
The caterpillar was of many steps,
The millipede was of many more,
Both were
Long,
Rhymed
Feet
Did collectively tap dance on the floor,
They thought to have a race
Millipede said,
I have feet that move swift and fast"
"While you have many less"
"This is a Race that'll be over fast"
The race would start around four,
Tick,
Tock,
Tick,
Tock,
So the millipede did wait,
And wait,
Waiting some more,
The race was to the top of the tree,
Milli as her friends called her,
Cat,
Caterp,
Caterpillar
Where, when will this race start anew
Then upon a stick,
Do
Not
Disturb
Milli gave a funny look,
Cats friend said
"She was resting before the race began"
So Mille said to each and those around,
"Wake me when she comes around"
And so the day ended a new one began,
And as it approached four once again,
A yawn heard from inside,
As Milli did run as quick as she could
Ok start the race,
"Ribbit"
Shouted the frog
The race did begin,
And many feet did move, dust seen as
These many feet did move like the wind,
Cat did wake and stretched out wide
As her wings caught sunlight
Am I late, did it begin,
Beauty,
Colour,
Grace
Was seen with each flap of her wings,
In to the air she did gently glide
As for Milli
She laughed
"HaHaHaha"
As she reached the roots of the tree,
"No one is faster on there feet but me"
Cat took her time
Floated,
*Glided,
Soared
High with the wind, her delicate touched
Bark and leaf, crossing the finish line
Upon delicate Feet,
Moments later Mille appeared
"Who"
"Are"
"You"
Milli confused at what was seen,
"I am Cat its plain to see"
And Milli angrily said
"This isn't fair"
"Cheated am me"
"Never cheated, with feet i crossed"
"Its only because you saw on the outside|"
"Not what was truly me"
And Milli did speak quietly
"I judged you less"
"I judged you weak"
"All because I had more feet"
I will learn this lesson well,
"It is not always what is seen on the outside"
"It is what is on the inside that counts"
You had beauty where i saw none,
But now you stand before me and
"I am sorry"
For the way I treated you,
Can we still be friends
Cat did answer we were always Friends, silly milli,
So milli ran and cat flew off,
lessons now learned on how to treat me and for me to treat you.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 4:36 PM UTC
There are no calories in coffee, there is nothing in my belly
except millipede fingers and toes trying to
impregnate me.
Little calorie ghosts and wandering pieces of meat,
what is left of what I eat eat eat
insects making me bleed bleed bleed,
one warms my hips
the other drags cool metal against my skin, catches on the
veins like loose strings. I am metallic
I taste it from inside my ***** down onto my feet.
Breaking bones, massaging wombs
coffee and centipede
shards carve out my ribcage when I do not like how I feel.
Sep 3, 2013
Sep 3, 2013 at 3:29 PM UTC
I wish I had the time to research
biology and chemistry and physics to relate our bodies
to electricity, come up
with a simile for *** and science.
But I doubt there would be any translation
of how your breath
raises polka dots on my skin.
I do not know what else that could mean
except there are insects
with as many legs as I have minutes spent on thinking
about well you learned to whistle.
Jul 17, 2013
Jul 17, 2013 at 2:32 AM UTC
My hands were wrung
not long ago, in fact the other day
they grasped towards each other
with a frightening pulse
felt through veins that stretch
across tendons as though they were longing
for escape from beneath - as a millipede would dig
out from the earth
painfully giving resurgence
to the fact that he was more alone there,
that I am alone
with only my hands
to feel what is not here.
Mar 12, 2012
Mar 12, 2012 at 11:44 PM UTC
Once upon a time
we were just broken pieces
under false impression
put together
shards that clashed
crashed against
each other
(and we called that
love)
spilled our our pain
from tarried pages
off empty screens
first we'd drink and smoke
so much so our
serrated edges
couldn't pop the
precious glass palace
I built around our fragile
naked bodies-
around my naked fragile heart
(and called that love)
blanketed oblivion
my swaddled shelter
out of a furl of smoke
our stories coiled
in the cloistered air
of your room
and I'd cry on
behalf of your secret pain
and I
called
that
love.
sometimes,
our rage would swell
out of
a deep
someplace outside us
( ?maybe God Yahweh Jehovah The Universe)
something (w)hole
complete swirl
Surreal
incomprehensible
and we'd lash-
and retract
once I cracked her from
a small shell she'd curled into
like a millipede
she asked
"why do we do this to each other?"
Nothing has ever crushed me
so much as love has crushed me
I am still just a splinter
and so is she
except I am lost
somewhere in a
crack in the floor
and she glitters
this whole world
watches her glitter
from her small spot
on the sidewalk
Mar 21, 2012
Mar 21, 2012 at 4:29 PM UTC
her shriek
as a millipede on the wall
is crawling
up and down her rubbing arms
the thousand legs of goosebumps
(C)2007, Christos Rigakos
Apr 6, 2012
Apr 6, 2012 at 4:40 PM UTC
Crazy ***** laughing bitter tears and
crying cruel laughter, curling like
a millipede thrown to the ground,
fragile, writhing creature of pity
reduced to sobs and shame as
one hand trembles toward the screen
skin meets glass, she punches, hard,
but the barrier absorbs her woes and
holds its rigid ground. No,
she can’t be touched, cannot touch,
They won’t let her -- she screams. muffled
white noise to the world, no one hears,
who would care? bells ring and crash in a pounding
skull, she contemplates smearing her brain
across the glass but her neck is locked in place
poor puny marionette left to hang without a will
in a world of which she can’t be a part
Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 6:51 PM UTC
It smells like rain this morning
8 in the city sins
Like wet grass, greens
Like electric clouds
Muffler exhaust
From the A.M. Commute
On Desert Inn Road
A millipede of Toyota Fords
And Honda Accords
Mojo takes his usual ****
In his usual spot
In the wet grass, green
It smells like rain this morning.
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 11:54 AM UTC
A leaf glides…effortlessly to the forest floor
As if guided by some mystical force…
Akin to a wave “destined” for the shore
It bristles with certainty that it’s on the right course.
When it rains…pitchforks…the eagle doesn’t fret
Or “sweat it out”…it’s a prized chance to rise
Above the situation…quite literally, not necessarily to get
Sky’s attention, maybe just to affirm where its strength lies.
Millipede’s slow, adopt nature’s pace
Destination is in sight, rushing’s ******* into the wind.
Each step is monumental taken with poise and grace…
Pausing every so often to catch a breath and unwind.
As opposed to clutching at straws, being still is paramount
Rome wasn’t built in a day, all “subtleties” count.
Jul 30, 2021
Jul 30, 2021 at 4:11 AM UTC
Song To Nature
Today it was bright and the sun shone above
The sky was an azure blue
And the breeze from the east made a low hallowed sound
as it blew all the leaves to their demise on the ground
From where I was sitting not a cloud was in view
And yet a warm, wet rain hit the earth all anew
The colors of springtime from purple to pink,
seemed all faded and worn and a bit out of sync
There was a scent on the air of which I must say
was like the rotting of flesh and of sleep out on the grass,
while a sweet melody sort of just drifted past
From where I was sitting I could see all who came
And they saw through me, my sorrow and shame
There was gray slabs of nothingness scattered around
Each encrypted a message so worldly profound
And the blooming decorum was a sight to behold,
each a symbol of love to the memories untold
And alas, a millipede on a road newly paved
was the last thing I saw from the view at my grave
Jun 9, 2017
Jun 9, 2017 at 6:24 PM UTC
Blood lashes in the rain as the wind buffeted the Plains of Detritus.
Fetid smells plagued the air in torrents of swirling effluence.
The red moon shone beyond the bending and bowing trees slashing the horizon.
A lone figure stood awash in the downpour yet firmly unaffected by the gale.
"Stay" said the statue.
Unmoving in his conviction that all trespassers be swept away with the storm.
White lighting struck the ground mere feet from his outstretched palm.
The explosion reaping a cacophony of destruction resulting in smoldering craters.
Glare obstructed the morosity but did little to extinguish the rotten fumes of death.
As sight regained clarity another flash lit the scene to reveal a writhing mass
Emerging from the rent earth like the oscillating arms of a millipede.
"Come closer" said the Devil.
In a blink a thousand wails descended on the land.
Baring teeth and grabbing hands.
Reaching...
Reaching...
To grab hold of the light of the last soul holding claim to its life.
Stubborn, it resists the touch of darkness by force of will alone.
Until even the last spark of hope became entangled within the putrid hellscape,
Winking out of existence and forgotten;
Consumed by evil.
"Such is the price of the blood moon" cackled the fallen angel.
Feb 12, 2017
Feb 12, 2017 at 9:16 PM UTC
I live like a ship on a wave
Dragged by the deep, still paving a way
A slave for the day,
Set sails north and I let the force of the wind take me away
Take me away, sight's on a star
What's outside's inside who we are
What's inside's outside who we are
So who am I to define who we are?
Or who we're really not
But they all get ill and do the Millie Rock
They all sell souls at a mill-a-pop
That's a millipede, running Hip Hop
One thing I know, I am not them
I'm not slipping cuz I got Him
Lucy’s gripping cuz she got them
They ain't tripping cuz they balling
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 8:30 AM UTC
In a dream,
the millipede pleads to me
for his freedom.
I look the other way
and as quickly as he
emerged from the dirt
He is gone.
Apr 26, 2020
Apr 26, 2020 at 10:53 PM UTC
this here
is written
in millipede strobe.
you mirror
the one you
love.
it is when her hands reach
for unresponsive things
that yours too,
quavering, unknowing of the expanse
of things that seemingly draw close
in killswitch pace
that you find yourselves
dissipating swiftly like
snow tumbled across waiting tapestries.
it is when her feet go without
saying that there is a
clandestine traverse of unspoken
truths and disrupted images,
that your find yourself waxing,
beaten away from the track of
the force that beats us back
to glass.
look at us - with eyes in the
doldrum of things that mean
everything, like how breathing
is default in trial, like how derby
is expendable in the flurry
of indefatigable trying,
like how i slowly,
naked and dripping,
kiss you through waters redundant
in its resounding call.
Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 10:15 AM UTC