"superimposition" poems
superimposition of celestial ampersand:
a continuity of all things
stars hanging loose in the pupil
of this deadbeat word.
typhoons in a swirl of tempestuous ballet,
dogs shivering in the blue cold,
biting their canine integument the way
scarabs would, sinking in a temporal flotsam-way within tectonic display
of text
hectares of blank stares bringing
to life lysergic field of black birds.
and then some
equal number of evocativeness:
continuing on into the ground
are the bones warm in their compost.
the sudden fragrance of rat ****
appeals to the masses.
too much laughter in flooded thoroughfares pockmarked by
the vehement jam of staccato jackhammer.
choking us is today's headline
in supreme obbligato - its stench
reeks of libidinal perfume etched
in the flesh of the rigmarole.
one filthy day in Manila.
Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 12:53 AM UTC
I've been spiraling down for a long time now,
It's time to fly back up.
I'm over it, over it, over the ********
It's time I stretched out of this skin I'm in,
I'm waking up, shaking myself
Into some kind of adulthood.
I've been living my life
as some superimposition sees fit
I'm over it, over it, don't need the ********
It's time I shredded this skin I'm in
I'm waking up, shaking myself
into some kind of womanhood.
Aug 19, 2010
Aug 19, 2010 at 9:32 AM UTC
Clanging friction on a steel ocean...
tale telling graffiti rooftopping.
Moment face-offs, superimposition
on a mind-screen.
Lampposts and steel beams cutting
sunlight, as it swims through surly
silver subway cars.
Drum roll shadows blowing blue
smoke brick.
Wearing and tearing all knowingness'
superstring hair...willing what wills.
Too many times here, rapacity lives
its death...you can see toes bust
through sheikh shoes, and curl.
Too many times here...too many ways
here, the next stop forgets itself.
As straphangers rock in the Eternal
Now...and those seated uncomfortably
on juxtaposed rows, play eyeless tag.
Playing down a pitless ground,
coring out their reserved space.
As panhandlers jingle change, irking
noise sensitive, sensitivities.
X-ed out by perfect attention to the isle
floor, staring at the colored bits and
pieces--damn...to ride on anonymity's
most crowning achievement, in the
most populous American city.
Force feeds one the fullness in emptiness...
as a street musician steps on, waiting to
strike a guitar string.
(Unstruck Sound)
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 2:42 PM UTC
I
Pluperfection of the past
A passive exists yet not to be
King to corruption to the loved
Dogma in the barbarian’s anarchy
II
New pages to fill
Old ways to rebuild
A birth irreplaceable by mockery
The earth salted yet again
III
Superimposition ex hollow, hallowed knowledge.
Power in our holy heresiarchy
Fire in the humble hearts of our pious clergy
Closure in our medial devotions
IV
Nocturnality, of the space between passivity.
Thoughts of past and future orders.
Magnificent putrefaction of our holy books
Together beyond the demon-blinded sun
Oct 20, 2018
Oct 20, 2018 at 6:57 PM UTC
The view from within became suddenly fractured,
refracted and infinitely cascading through
a shattered kaleidoscopic perception
of diverging dimensional superimposition,
spinning mathematically through all permutations
of every possible configuration
of atoms in all of existence at once;
resulting in fractals of all of creation
and I found it unnerving, so I made myself lunch.
Jul 17, 2019
Jul 17, 2019 at 6:26 PM UTC