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ChinHooi Ng May 2015
In the theater
under the indigo curtain
of night
the lovely fruits still have
the wings of leaves
dazzling earrings joggling
shining
in a night
punctiliously built
by you
behind you is
a sodden wall
like the part of the world
that is cold
a song without tears
is the shrill of rocks
on the precipice
there's
too much imagination
trekking.
Every five minutes they come
whirring like copters for war
slashing through immaculate peace
you crave to blanket your day with

Those speeding three-wheeled
gadflies
are kings of small streets and
act like you must pay them to

Extricate you from a cluster of
doomed and dusty eggs and bacon
deliver all that racket

in your head
every time you think
about buzzing
drones

on your meatloaf
in your heart
in your dreams
on your hopes
on your thoughts

about how marriage
should be
a man and a woman
now one soul in
two bodies
living together
committed
fighting for stable
“everydays”

The roses look damp
bouquets of mums
on the kitchen table
you pouring hot coffee;
the mug you took two
hours to pick out
is punctiliously stained.
Michael Marchese Nov 2018
Frenetic mess of masses clasping
Medium exchanges passing
Hands are cashing in the yield
I keep my eyes banana-peeled
For ripest, firm, devoid of bruise
Punctiliously, as I choose
What to refuse
What to consume,
What's ready to be
Purchased soon
Averting each
Judgmental gaze
Occasional obscene displays
Of wary to my
Alien
Selections vegetarian
Restricted even further still
By what I can not cook or ****
Just here to fill my plate
With weight
Of yesterday, same thing I ate
And don't expect these habits change
Until my taste buds rearrange
Far from this strange, Muslim bazaar
I feast again like Shah Jafar
Vera Ezekiel Mar 11
I punctiliously stare the wind
Blows dust over me
Like a car speeding in a dirt track
And I like bird sings my melody
Blithely.

I punctiliously stare the storm
Injects me with flame
Because I'm a crab, I lend
All my horrid pains away.

Last night, in my dreams, God embraced
Me in colors like rainbows
And I laughed at my rainy days
In pitches like a virtuoso.
A poem of life storms, patience and victory.
Generating a ring
     of bright waters, which
currently meanders, ponders,
     and then streams - twitch
ching reflexively as flora
     and fauna lap rich
text chard liquid
     timelessly streaming, rippling,

     and quivering pitch
sure risk gully confidently
     babbling, bobbing, bubbling,
     burbling loch a king
     dominating his rill small niche
wade ding in the wings,
     one doth espy, (sans oxbow lake)
     analogous to an err

     river rent sea sunned bay sic
     wide whirled, whetted, webbed itch
perhaps berthed as a ******* creek,
     and/or survivor of a ****
ling, which ordinary
     happenstance attempts
     to anthropomorphize
     life giving resource hitch

ching various synonyms for water,
     where sustenance to biosphere
     can become flushed out
     vis a vis via an ecological glitch
which dry dystopian scenario,
     within the realm
     of human activities circumstance
     leaving most animals plants awash

     bay sic lee lurching,
     gasping, and choking
     within an immense oceanic ditch
availing an alien landscape
     awash with post apocalyptic
     desiccated global cribbage
match, where the losing hand
     would be a real *****,

thus summarily, punctiliously, and merrily
     describes the edifying whirlpool
     life sike ****
where countless marine species will flounder
     (literally like a fish out of water)
     viz deadened ghyll.
Rex Cox Jan 2018
Mrs. Browning's
Addiction to *****-

And did
The mere thought of it-

Just to get a little more of it-

Have her heart beating
Just like a big bass drum?

No doubt-

But that she would observe
Punctiliously
The taking of it-

Quickly getting the shakes for it-

When she didn't get some...

That is...

Mrs. Browning's
Addiction to *****.

— The End —