"unclogging" poems
I like slandering your makeshift forceps.
I hammer you down with watery *** and then spill
the remainder on the couch. Yarg! A diamond’s
worth at least a small intestine, and you
are worth whatever’s left over after night
has upended itself, poured sideways out of its
shellacked crawlspace, and turned the basement sour.
There are remnants of you in the park,
some red stain by the baseball field where,
if you’ll remember, you watched little leaguers
build teamwork, and faint splotches on tree bark
from your lactations which, if you’ll remember, happened
every morning. I whisper your godforsaken name
and am slapped in the head. The children cry
when I smile. I cry when the children smile. Good
heavens. I forbid you from not entering my corridor,
even as I set up a barricade. I like my water scalding,
my passion chilled, and I like you in easy-to-
swallow doses. I like you in my eggs.
Ditto the faucet, keyboard, the occasional lily,
but do not mess with my pearls. I mumble of apodictic
meadows while I sleep. What can I say?
I do not mumble of unclogging your bathtub,
which has a certain foul repute, and has grown
heavy and ugly with your hair, which is everywhere,
just as you are everywhere, and wherever, and so
********* hidden it’s not funny anymore, we stopped
looking some millennia ago, after scouring the drainpipes,
kicking down your doors, dissecting your mattress,
speculating about your burial site, etcetera, and even so
we have not been really looking all this time, have we,
just blaring your name through the speakers,
putting wrong numbers on our calling cards, leaving
uncooked meat out on the back porch as if you were
a raccoon, oh, or a lion, which you are not, or not
quite, though, as the books say, you have honey
in your stomach, and if you could but be
ripped open we would taste and see.
May 25, 2010
May 25, 2010 at 8:21 PM UTC
drifted autumnal clouds are dancing,
moving with the time to and fro
gentle breezes are blowing,
dancing with the little birds,
dancing with yellow barren fields
usually I am wandering,
and craving romance in a garden,
And I see,
butterflies are unclogging,
grasshoppers are playing,
and dancing with the gentle breezes -
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 3:39 PM UTC
*///
A rough ramp,
too many edged stones on the surface
she is walking on the ramp with booted a high pencil heel
we see her speed, her fashion
we say that it's her smartest move
even her body language shows the beauty
but it's true that one of us sitting there doesn't care her at all
The flowers are on the fire,
blooming throughout the garden
too many colors, coloring the spring
so much aroma appealing around
either the bees are buzzing or not
growing itself through the nature
either we are caring those or not
Birds are flying around the sky
they are highly ambitious
sometimes they fly over the dark clouds
yet they are unclogging their feathers throughout the sky
until the clouds are breaking into the water
showing that they don't care about the height of the heaven
even you see their stunning diving or not
When it's an amazing raining
maybe you are walking toward the horizon
who is shining sharply within the rainbow?
the little boy is enjoying through the window!
its a playful beauty beyond
It doesn't care about thee
either we are looking, caring or not
Boys are barefooted,
walking on the broken glasses,
bleeding blood on the floor
making spot on the spaces
they are running within the daydreams
now they don't care about anything
**** we never wish to care them at all
///
Musfiq us shaleheen*
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 7:09 AM UTC
Thousands of doors are going
To open Today
After a Long Day
Of Sultry Dark
Slowly moving Clouds
But what it is!
As if the speed of the wind more than
A Hurricane
Extreme sound Rocking the Sky,
The Home
And the Expanding
Barren Field,
Repeatedly being Thunder Around
As far as I can See
Across the Horizon
The Rain has come down
As Cats and Dogs
Dim Light in the Room
Hope, despair shaken
Windows Open
Southern waves
Randomize the Poetry Books
Flying Pages,
Never before or after in the
The Scent of the Poetry
In the Air
Sky-word Sentences
I have seen my Reflection
In the Light of the Short
The past Knocking
On the Closed Door
To open the Wide Sky
You have sat down
In the Horizon
That has reminded
The First Love Poem
Where I read
And planted my Dreams
Bringing the garden
Roses,
Marigold,
Sunflowers
Where there the moonlit
Of moonlight has
Crafted the Dreams
Like an Imagination
As if,
Unclogging Peacock's Feather
But the sudden wind
Increasing the Velocity
Light has been Extinguished
Yet the Flame Alive
But don't see my Reflection,
In the distant Glass,
In the Poetry,
In the Words
In an Angular way,
Through the Windows
Rain coming into the Limelight
Put away the Poetry
And the Dreams
As the Books of Poetry has Seemed
Like the Stones
But Yet I'm waiting,
For The Next morning
Where the Hope will Come Again
In the Shining Smile of Light
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 10:06 AM UTC
That frolic pronunciation of words
Moving the Tongue in Motion
The Palate has become Smooth
Excess Saliva in the mouth doesn't come
And the melody is made
Without the knowledge of the mind
That is Called the Songs of Heart,
Songs of Freedom
Outburst the Words
Of Love
Find Fascination
Grown the rhythm of life
Where Peacocks unclogging their feathers
The rain drops on the desert
Flowers bloom in hope
Dreams to fly on wings
Seeking Love
There Peacock has found his Peahen
Flowers Spread Fragrances
Music melts into melody,
In words
In Souls
Moving the River into the Sea
And where there is floated
A Fearless
Love Boat
From one end
To the another Horizon
And where we found our lost existence
@Musfiq us shaleheen
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 11:39 PM UTC
Anything doesn't Come
Today all known roads are blank
All have gone away
Have devoured into
An expanding vast spaces
Beside the Southern window
Sun doesn't laugh anymore
Even you haven't sung no more
As the lonely pied crested Cuckoo
Yet, what makes hope of the birds
When they flying away in the sky,
What prompts this metaphor
Don't understand the pen
Don't know the mind
Not hear the time
When getting out of the lost in the dark
As if there is no space
Between known and unknown
Coal is the same as diamonds
But how beautiful thee songs are!
Spreading light in the darkness
Fascinating with its Form
Wondering to touch
To Catch in the dark
Unclogging the thousands wings of imagination
Bringing a bed of roses
Have laid on the grass
Passing the time to gossip
With the hidden Stars
Under the open Sky
At the end of a thousand
Miles away
Whose face popped
Don't Speak
Don't Laugh
How pensive the faded Classic face!
@Musfiq us shaleheen
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 1:44 PM UTC
What is it hereby that I seeith?
Unardent archetypes,
Credited cards to swipe for fast food,
Archaic since long ago!!!!
Aristocratics art thou?
Gormandizing collared frenzies,
A meal plus ten for thine own family?
What about thy neighbor?
The one on thy street?
Doused in fluid, puke, and his own safekeeps,
Not enough for him thou furtive frugal?
Yea,
Tuck thine own pockets back in,
Dont let him see you have all to giveth!!!
Unlargess you!!!
As this old rock spins in circular motion,
To thine loved ones all time and devotions,
Thou giveth not to thine own family,
But to slot machines?
Thou maverick!!!
Thine phene!!!
Agile pabulum Haven's hath become brothels of aspirin taking needed,
Once a day for unclogging!!!!!
Protractingly fateful health oh mortal?
Trying to live to one hundred?
Afraid for thy soul to pass?
What's wrong? No god? No faith at last?
Provident to failure!!!
Virulent art thou,
For thine work thou hath made thine surplus,
Skipping the wife's needs?
For forty hours of volition and lust!!!!
Visionary of demonic audacity!!!
Thy own path is manifest and lamenting,
For art thou not repenting of thy fast lifted paradox??
I'm a cynic to thy trust!!!!
May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 12:51 PM UTC
Me;
Before You, I was
Steeping in an invented
Self.
Comfortably
Immersed in
Oblivion.
You;
You looked at me,
With kind eyes,
Having seen so much
Failure;
Nonetheless eager
To try.
Nonetheless willing
To be the
Extractor of my
Soul;
Unclogging the drains
Plugged with vile
Misconceptions.
Filtering the murky mere,
Instituting
Clearer waters.
Affirming that I had been
A victim of my
Body—
An excess of cells, merely
Bitter
Of their ephemeral
Purpose,
So concealing the
Intellect—
That which was
Truly sacred.
Us;
Philosophers;
Bathing in our own
Blood.
Thinking and feeling—
Basking in
Questions.
All for the sake of
Some redemption.
Claiming an awareness of
The world,
And dismissing the
Futile cycle of
Our mission.
Nonetheless,
We are eager—
Willing
To try.
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 5:56 PM UTC
this is how i awaken.
the dust i choke on floats away and
shrink to nothing within my last breaths,
unclogging my gashes and wounds
giving space for the poison to seep out.
this is how i awaken
with the decay of her madonna-veil and
a bright eye piercing the game.
this is how i awaken.
this is how i die.
the floor i stand on drops from my feet
thousands of miles a second,
buzzing air encircling our shoulders
knitting our skin closer together.
this is how i die
with my hands in your curly hair and
a kiss so loving on my forehead.
this is how i die.
Jul 11, 2018
Jul 11, 2018 at 12:18 PM UTC
If writing was easy
I’d drop it in a dime
It’s more than just words
More than emotions and thoughts inside
It’s bleeding out through your pen
Making sense of life line after line
Unclogging what’s eating you alive
Surfacing the feelings that make you forget how to sleep at night
Coping the best way we can our entire lives
An artists curse isn’t forgetting what one wants to write
But making each poem a mask
To make yourself comfortable to eat and sleep over time
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 2:54 AM UTC