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WS Warner Mar 2013
Seasoned Love's silent discourse,
Dusk of the long distance,
Beneath the mantle of lament
The peak bloom, gnawing decay,
Obscure
The weight of favor;
Annealing fire, moulded by
Winds of duration
Unfastening the raw surf of sorrow.

Incipient caprice, theft of occlusion
Colored by common defiance,
Vile tremors of privation-
Native enclave,
The province of
Vacant, age-eaten elucidation.

The tangled weave, pathos and ethos
Vested
Interior acquisition,
Furrowed paths of countenance
Evincive and drawn,
Affinity found, inhabiting the palisades
Of Immersion.

A furtive glance harbors
The trained gaze whose
Immanent flame-
Emergent
Serous source,
Imbued piercing latency;
A taste of
The fountainhead.

Unprobed theater of the absolute.

Thin supple pith
Identity sealed in skin
Perambulator of meaning and
Lineaments of cure.
Bearing the image of ubiquity
Perceives in the other,
Immortality.
Sacramental Eros,
Subsumes the
Capacity to treasure.

©2013 W.S. Warner
Tom Blake Apr 2016
They gathered round his perambulator
To feast on such a wonderful sight:
A newborn radiant, smiling
Kicking his legs in the air
Delighting the hearts of his admirers...
Innocence
So
Fair!

Decades passed.


He became a mass murderer.
Stood up again
and not on a date
this is the train
or it could be
a
diabolical liberty.

We pays the money
but may as well walk.

It's all ******* anyway.

Complaints
complaints
when don't we ain't got
complaints
but
if everything was
hunky dorey
that would be one
boring story.

I like a good storey
the twenty fifth one
is the best one to
jump from

won't be complaining then
when they scrape me off
the concrete car park.

The dead end is never the end
it's just easier to get in and
impossible to get out of,
well
perhaps not impossible,
impassable.

No one's got up and I am
still stood up.

These cattle trucks get you every time
no room for mice or men on the Central line and do I tell him that
he's got B.O or
do I hold my breath and let it go?

Brains?
is
bringing on a perambulator at St Paul's and expecting to find a Saint,
complaints
ain't nothing to this.
Battery Sep 2020
a single perambulator idles on the cobbled stone
It's filled with dusty, Fractured bones
yearning, yearning mother earth
cries out for those she gave birth
wishing to envelop her kin once again
From time now, until the end.

mangled gangly trunks spin round,
growing limbs throughout the town
they advance in such peculiar ways
knocking bones from where they lay
so they could rest where Mother meant
vines covered up the corpses, and they wept
yeah. This would be my current mind frame
JP Aug 2016
a best jewel
woman can wear…… is
pushing  perambulator
of her child on street...
I was six years old, the year was 1966.  Mom left me alone in a plaza
with my one year old sister in a perambulator.  
She went inside to do the grocery and asked me to take care
of her while she picked a few items;  
Along came two teenagers.  Inching closer to the carriage they peeked inside,  
"OOOOH  she's cute, is this your baby sister ?"
The next comment froze me where I stood,    
"We are going to take her, " one of them said,    
while the other grabbed the handles of the carriage
They shoved me aside and took off.  
I was in shock but I managed to run inside.  Sobbing  I told my mom
they had stolen my baby sister ;
Mom ran out of the store and chased after them.  
They ran fast but mom ran faster with me lagging behind.  
Suddenly they got scared when they heard her yell and pushed the carriage in the middle of the road.  Mom grabbed it before a car came by,
but slashed her leg on the steel frame while saving my sister from a car.
All my life I have had an intense fear of losing someone dear
Mom and dad both are both gone now, but the memory of that day
will live inside of me forever.

A true story that happened to me.
bennu Sep 2020
I'm the perambulator of body parts
I am scared to be dressed like a cat
I am walking along the Gulf coast
I am dressed like a **** cat
If one piece of hair comes loose
It's really something to laugh at.

I am a walking abstract painting
I am a face and a foot and fussing hands
I am emergent of buzzing molecules
I am emergent of the Philly suburbs
I am not who people say I am
I am more than my mistakes
I am shaped of some dimension
I am more than what I am

I am proving it right now
I am entropy itself
I am filling in my shoes
Now I kick them off my feet

I am everything you dreamed,
Only local to myself
I am bound, but I will die
And I
Will always be myself

I've heard this all before
I can drink it with my thoughts
If I missed a couple things
No need to tell them I forgot,
You forgot
Apricot
I think we all forget a lot.

That I'm the earth and wind and sun
And I am not the only one
One day I will untie the Giant
Microscopic knot

— The End —