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Jerry Desbrow Oct 2013
The trapeze artist without
trapeze,
encased within a paper weight,
reading through eye
glasses crafted for readers
astigmatic use.
This is the mind set...... this is the end truth.......
Being is embryonic,
to become, to the pupal larva,
a new becoming, Life.

               II
Quantum leaps often end in tragedy
               when the time traveler ceases to travel
                         The sudden stop!
Rapid communication......synaptic calibration......recall all yesterdays.
blind intellect               one tenth of one second         15 seconds
The dimensions split and the bicameral mind appears two lobes
right and left, inverted vision adjusted for
mythic fusion,
creating abstracted convolutions
answering to them self. A planet in a galaxy of confusion.

            III

Imagination finding place in the new electronic
institution, man made synaptical illustrations
from pixilated madness.
We take from this..............an
illogical extension of our existence that makes some sense.
We make it such
that it becomes
the most told lie
we believe without questioning.
Till death we do part.

             IV

As I inhale looking at my past...my last past, well
in any case the past is where I just wrote past the last time
like now PAST.
Rationalization is overrated, intellectual *******
is for the cools, and catatonic haze is a new wave drug.
It is early in a new society's evolution.....
It is late in the face of time......
ergo quantum quandary quid pro quo

Ajerry / copyright

                                                                   2013
**I am not sure what the meaning of explicit means to a poet. It does not contain X rated language or sexually explicit acts. Ajanon/ Jerry**
matt Oct 2014
Sam
a kiss from your lips, for a brief moment time stopped and i was in a perpetual heaven. i talk to you every night and all i can do is smile and try to hear your voice and see the look of happiness on your face because your smile is the fuel that keeps me going your voice is the oil that keeps me moving. when you hold on to my arm i feel… real. your embrace completes me in more ways than you know. when I’m alone with you and you simply lay in my arms i am overcome with a sense oh happiness i haven’t felt in what feels like an eternity. just as you have fallen from heaven i have fallen for you and all your beauty. when i look at you your eyes they shine like an island of green and brown surrounded by an ocean of blue waves crashing against the shore. what i can only describe as a section of the vast universal dark that is your pupal and everything around it lets me see the entire universe and its wonders all contained in your beautiful eyes. sam if i had the power to change any aspect of you let god strike me down if i ever had the thought of changing what is comparable only to perfection. I want to fall asleep with you wrapped around me i want to wake up to your shining eyes kiss your lips and lay there for eternity. all i can think about is you, you consume my thoughts every hour of every day of every night. i felt lost in the world of love. I always wanted to know if the ****** love songs you hear on the radio are really love, there not. love is looking into the eyes of someone you care for and being able to tell every little detail on her mind read her like a book. when i stare into your eyes i see waves of light conveying every possible emotion expressed in slight movement of muscles in your beautiful  face, the slightest grin says a million words. when we were finally able to express how we truly felt when are lips touched and we both drew back for air, the look in your eyes made me melt. the smile you gave me was unreal i can’t even describe it, all i knew was that i loved you and i saw love in your eyes. sam you are the best thing that has happened to me in ten years. i am not worthy of a girl like you. it feels like i have known you for eternity but not even an eternity is enough to truly know someone with this much character, emotion, experiences, and beauty. i can’t say how happy i am to be on this earth, to sit in my truck with your head resting on my shoulder or to rap my arms around you and kiss your neck, to simply look into your eyes and see something more than a blank stare that just looks past me. I’m not sure what it is that draws me to you so much but what ever it is i thank god for it. i have even given the opportunity to love someone to perfect. all i can say about you is that even though the word love is tossed around way to much these days i can’t think of a better word to describe how i feel about you. i just have to show you how much that word is meant when its used with your name.
Cody Edwards Jun 2010
Speed is an ocean,
My shore lined with its salt,
Walking quiet in a chasm
Paved in bitter broken stone.

A relapse breaks out mid-step:
Pupal voices, murmuring hearts
In origami churches.
The anticipation dogs me madly.

My days are hollowed out by what you give,
I’d set myself on fire to see you live.
© Cody Edwards 2010
Slur pee Aug 2017
Foreign concepts implant themselves into grey terrain, like aliens;
Landing from a far away, vermillion planet to explore this lifeless place,
(Save for a pocketful of neurons that spend their days rubbing up against my spinal cord)
Blanketed in electricity, sparks cause reality to distort as if clouds fell apart and through the fog
Came God- to **** it. I don’t understand how we so skillfully secrete a monster in a man’s skeleton,
With his nerve endings begging to bend and touch any meagerly love, but they don’t reach far enough
So we inwardly self-destruct; leaving me so ****** that I crave cancer ‘tween my lips, even though I quit;
I want to taste you in my spit, a magical concoction of saliva, sweat and *****;
Concealment of a demon, tactical manipulation. Take my malleable form,
And stretch me out of shape; Use your destructive hands to create your image of perfection,
While I crawl like a spider with a twisted spine in our flawed perdition. Exorcise Christ,
And I’ll exercise my self-rights of freedom; where I’m permitted to be restricted by my own selfish ties.
Entwined in the unimaginable curves of Time, I’ll lay my eggs inside her and devour her line.
Dressed in sebum, I’m born a heathen; fresh out of the garden, apples clinging to my lips.
Give me a kiss soaked in the expensive blood of our sins and I’ll lie there pensive,
Holding on to extensive thoughts, herding them across wrinkles like cattle preparing for slaughter.
Breathe life into this helpless daughter, who’s bones have been hollowed by an ancestry of parasites
And she’ll hallow the saliva that sits on her sallow face as it digs into her blinded headsights.
She’s lying as a larva, trying to fly into a pupal state; her chrysalis diseased like syphilis,
Sores eat at pores and skin, inflamed, aches with itches that penetrate deep between layers of dermis
Her internal organs rot at the thought that this world is the final stop between an endless stretch
Of space and imagination; Let an extraterrestrial race escape from God’s hands through finger gaps
And find a place worthy of permanently marking where they were at.

-SLuR
wordvango Sep 2017
of do a lord hath laid an egg
and deeds have gathered up in tombs
seeking rewards and justifications
only leaves the lord listening

to
gnawing teeth of bugs of
blowfly
drawn by rotting flesh
and gases to pupal teeth

young maggot feasting on

a darkening wood moving
thresh;
here 

remains his last words
left without
a bit of sense
I experience dread-nought
until April 19th, 2022 becomes yesterday
when troubles with management
here at Highland Manor
hoop fully temporarily alleviated.

Yours truly and the missus
personal living space
otherwise known as Unit B44
encroached, obtruded, and violated
predicated upon fruit fly infestation
justifying purported request for entry
into our one bedroom apartment.

Anticipatory anxiety put on high alert
when the warden gave less than a week
courtesy spluttering tone of voice
she did angrily blurt
nsync with her usual persona
being wickedly curt
treating us (myself and missus) like dirt
gloating in our writhing adversity

poor, sharecroppers,
no matter yours truly indigent
no matter exhaustive effort I do exert
to secure living income/wage, thus flirt
with visions of illusions grandeur
analogous to taut pulled belt girt
tightly around psyche whereby temple hurt
with unbearable agony
rendering these lovely bones inert.

Grosse and Quade Management
at 2 Highland Manor Apartments
with Jackie Geiger at the helm
finds yours truly afflicted with weak
praise, cuz she left us
(meself and the missus)
in figurative darkness,
whereby I electronically

soulfully bellow and shriek
seize the day
silently critiquing as if writing op/ed
for Time magazine and/or defunct Newsweek
perhaps under heading summarizing healthweek,
which hypothetical issue possibly considered
virtual collector's item
and subsequently unreal antique.

Stress unrelenting linkedin
to pesky of Drosophila melanogaster.

Fruit flies undergo
three stages of development
before emerging as adults:
egg, larva and pupa.

At room temperature,
fruit flies can develop
into adults within one to two weeks.

The egg and larval stages
span approximately eight days,
while the pupal stage lasts six days.

The adult fruit fly lives for several weeks.

Said pesky situation
warranted extermination services
to the tune between $100 and $175
for professional services
cuz countless instances arose regarding
swarm of itty bitty teeny weeny insect
thus aforementioned tab relegated
gifted as responsibility to yours truly
as threatened courtesy no nonsense
aforementioned heiress to the throne
of owners Grosse and Quade.

Methinks eviction in the offing,
though I will assertively
contact Fair Housing
if figurative push comes to shove
and broadcasts plea
for alternate place to reside
(ideally within Southeastern Pennsylvania)
including affordable low income rent.
J Day Nov 2019
Changing faces my masks droop my back weary
getting angry, how could I hate myself
lash after lash, go girl, yes babe, so pretty
yet not a man in heart or love and I’m angry
scared to speak not for fear for embarrassment
lift my naked pupal form out of a husk and hurl it to strangers
how does it taste? Let me describe it to you
proving I am real, my flesh substantial let me tear it asunder

My name, really my name, scared to leave my throat
safe in my belly germinating I keep it
so only I can look upon it and kick it and hate it
a worm is not able to tell it’s truth.
Slice these pieces off my chest does that make
me easier to explain, to the carnivores or to myself?
I love to be mutilated then my form will never be
identified, a stranger etched on a familiar face
a lie where the mouth should be. Shot
and riddled with excuses, one day, one day,
one day, soon.

Remaining unchanged is a curse laid across
my chest, under debris I placed knowingly.

— The End —