"rompers" poems
Tingly under the daisies;
Glassy-eyed, glazed, greasy;
Shaking, shivering, shuddering,
Wishing, wandering, whimpering,
Westernizing—
Romanizing—
Constitutionalizing—
Institutionalizing—
Perpetually searching
And dying
And living,
Watching Death survive
And scythe the frolickers,
The prancers,
The rompers,
The merrymakers.
A rose clamped between his
Grinning teeth glistens brightly,
And he dances so joyously.
“Yes!” say the naysayers,
Confused are the soothsayers,
Lost are the cartographers.
Oh, Utopia!
The monks are extravagant;
The meditations are a farce!
The preachers are beggars
And swindlers and chargers,
And Machiavelli fulfills his wishes!
Babies are stillborn, stabbed, and
Ritualistically sacrificed,
And their blood is spilled, drunk,
Slathered over the ***** man.
The evangelists scream and lie:
“You are all predestined to die!”
Oh, hail Utopia!
Wedded are the girls to the girls;
Wedded are the boys to the boys;
Wedded is Death to Death,
Life to Life,
And Life to Death.
Wedded are the living to the existent.
And the milking babes are slaughtered
Ceremoniously,
Surreptitiously,
Ostentatiously.
Oh, hail great Utopia!
We are all dead and unintelligent:
Laugh, laugh, Einstein, at your
Stupidity.
Laugh, laugh, Temple Grandin at
Your retardation.
Laugh, laugh, laugh!
Look at the sluggard, thou ant;
Look at the boy, sobbing wolf;
Aesop was drunk,
Aristotle was delusional,
Michelangelo was blind,
Beethoven could hear,
Poe was sane.
And I can't read.
They ramble,
I watch.
They sleep,
I watch.
They dream,
I watch.
They sleep-talk,
I watch.
They scream,
I watch.
They choke,
I watch.
They suffocate,
I watch.
Stone-faced, I stare;
Raspingly, I breathe;
Uncontrollably, I twitch;
Inwardly, I rage.
I hope you die, I hope you die.
I hope you bleed, I hope you die.
I want you begging and crying,
I want you blubbering at my feet,
I want you gnashing at my ankles,
I want you writhing in pain,
I want your arm twisted off,
Cracking with the snapping sinews, I want your beating heart in my hands, I want your genitals uprooted and stuffed in your throat, I want your stomach so I can eat the still-digesting food, I want your shrunken head and I want to force my thumbs into your unblinking eyes and I want to tear your face in two and I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, I want you to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die, to die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die and die.
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 9:47 PM UTC
Hello there, long lost friend!Your soul is quick to embraceBut your eyebrows are hesitantNonchalant, but entirely too awareOf the time that has passed.You've grown out of rompers and jumpersAnd long ago lost your innocence,Running from quick candlefireAnd buffalo callings-round a nightlight.Is it that time already?To worry about loan repayments and language disorders?One more night, day, hour, summer,To roam in search of fireflys,Pitter pats, and knee high adventures.
Feb 21, 2010
Feb 21, 2010 at 10:50 AM UTC
Sleeping
Lullabies of thunder and gore
On a wet night's tremors at my mother's coastal shore
I heard the hum of your pitch dark delight,
Roaring with wraith o'er the lagoon
Raging tides and wreaths lo-where shroom.
That's when I heard you bouncing off the shadows.
Another folly night in the jungles of board and milky turns of rocks, I saw you whistle past the bamboo blades.
But it was on the terrace of my paternal home that I saw the insignificantly significant red fireflies on a pitch dark night embraced in palms,
I felt your touch by mangroves and pines.
You come again to lull me to slumber
Thundering bolts refrain from shallow rompers.
Take me with your silent coos and moos.
Light my dirge and moan for moons.
Let's overthrow the albatross and harrow the silvesteros.
Send my greetings to the land of doon.
I am en route, already my beau
Apr 18, 2019
Apr 18, 2019 at 5:01 PM UTC
She loves Korean cuisine,
and anything lathered with cheese.
It takes an age to get her makeup on,
but it's well worth the patience.
Secluded tables at Starbucks,
with laptops on YouTube - surfing.
She adores floral collared button-ups,
and understated slip-on sneakers.
She doesn't have a favorite colour,
she's beautifully indecisive like that.
Sometimes rompers, skater-dresses,
and tanned leather wedges.
Forehead kisses and cuddles on the couch,
denounce your love for her and vouch.
Open the doors for her, smile,
and kiss her hand whilst you rack up the miles.
Spend late nights on Skype,
indulging in the internet's hype.
She loves to sleep-in when schedule permits,
play console games and watch trending flicks.
Don't forget to bid her goodnight,
Kiss her cheek and hug her tight.
Gaze into her beautiful eyes,
which bears more stars than the skies.
Promise me that you'll treat her swell,
and I will wish you well.
© 2017 José
May 20, 2017
May 20, 2017 at 10:44 PM UTC