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Jacquelyn Morgan May 2015
I am the pinnacle of controversy
Some say ******-my middle name
And still to others I represent freedom,
I am the pointed pentagram of blame.

Almost mothers spread cold-feet
Where I scrape and claw/vacuum aspirate eat.
From open, porous, space-between-legs
My Gnashing teeth-grind out the would be meat.
I am the noise that is never forgotten
Detaching zygotes from walls of womb
I am the reality of ****** indiscretion- the tomb

I do my job- do I play  “God” ?
For the “******” behind doors
Carrying secrets & dreams of more
They leave one less-plus future full-term
slide up their stockings & hope not to return

I’m the last to see the mothers-to-be
Before they change- rearranged
I see geometrically: each.separate.part:
Chalk eyes never wet just hurt
Lips-lined straight with shame
chins that never wobble- 50/50 tipped to pray
& feet with nowhere to fall, they walk away

I am the pin-cushion point of pain
To what the picketing protesters agenda is aimed
I am where pro-life and pro-choice meet
The executioner of straight to heavens unborn elite
I am the buzzing abortion machine.
Terry O'Leary Sep 2014
<> The human genome consists of 20 000 paired genes… about…

<> During meiosis, gametes are generated by randomly swapping genetic material… let's shout…

<> 2^(20 000)  = 10^(6 000) possible ***** (proud of daddy)… boy scout…

<> 2^(20 000)  = 10^(6 000) possible ova (proud of mommy)… far-out…

<> 2^(40 000)  = 10^(12 000) possible zygotes… freak out…

<> 1 zygote in 10^(12 000)  = Improbable Me… no doubt!


;-))
I recall a little of high school biology... sort of...
I had a good biology teacher... sort of...
I forget his name... sort of...
.

Z - A

Zonked Yanks eXport Weird Views Underpinning Terrorist Suspects, Risking Quiet Proliferation Of Nuclear Missiles, Leaving Killer Jihads In Hostile Groups. Forgetting Europe, Death Claims Babylon: America.

Zero Yields X’s Without Value. Useless Technical Solutions Regarding Quanta, Plainly Outside Newtonian Mathematics. Logic Keeps Jokers In Hearty Guffaws  Forever.  Eternity Derides Computation By Algebra.

Zap! Your X-ray Was Very Useful Tool. Sarcomas’ Revealed, Quality Prognosis On Masse. Later Knowledge Jibes; Increased Hidden Growths Frequently Entailing Death Couldn’t Be Anticipated.



A – Z

Away Bright Cinder, Drift Eternally, Fly! Glow! Heat Incandescent! Jeweled Key, Luminous Molten Nuclei, Ornate Precious Quotient, Radiant Shining Teardrop. Unknowable Volcanic Whisper, eXact, Yield: Zero.

Awful Blues, Crazy Dreams, Every Fleeting Ghastly Horrible Idea Jars, Killing Love. Murderous Omens, Portending Quiescence, Reduce Sleep To Uniform Vacant Wastelands, eXiled Yearning Zenith.

Acting Behind Closed Doors, Every Famous General Has Insight: Jabbering Khaki Liveried Majors Narrate Orders, Pursuing Quarries, Retelling Strategic Theories. Up Valiant Warriors, Cross Your Zone!

A Bitter Child Denies Every Friendship Going. Hate Instills Jealousies Knife. Lies Mean Nothing. Other People Question Reality. Sic Transit Umbra, Vile World. eXcise Your Zest.

Albert Ball’s Camel Dived Effortlessly, Flaming Guns Hammered Into Junkers. Keeping Level Meant Not One Pilot Questioned Richthofens’ Stall Turn, Underpinning Victory With X-elerating Yawing Zoom…

Although Boy’s Charm Doesn’t Explicitly Frighten Girls, Her Instincts Jostle, Knowing Laughter Masks Nights Ordained Paths. Quiet! Reason Sleeps Tonight, Unmasked Votive Wanderings eXpose Y-Fronted Zygotes!



r10.6.1
One of my earliest 'concept' poems that actually worked out. Boy was I smug when I started pulling these bad-boys out of the ether; they’re so utterly…automatic: an allusion to my pretensions in writing Systems Poetry. There are loads of these that simply don’t work, and the 'X's' are a problem, but at their best they have an impact and effect quite different to poetry using a similar but undirected structure! This concept led directly to another poem: ‘Ab Imo Pectore’, which uses the same technique, but on lines rather than words, and in Latin, rather than English… told you I was a smug so-and-so!
Jack Touchet Mar 2012
Such sweet songs
Fall from faces full
Of open
Hearts holding hands.
Generally great groups gather
Quixotic questions,
Ponder personal perceptions,
Emulating ever entranced emotions.
Love loses leaps, leaves
Broad bruises bypassing
Catastrophically closed creations.
What wonder, what wildly whimsical
Rejoice remains?
In individualistic idioms.
As all allowed anatomical
Differences deal dictations,
Juxtaposed jesters join
Monstrous masterminds
Trivially tinkering, tryingly,
Near non-subjective nothingness
Under unusual
Vectors. Vivisecting voracious,
Zeppelin-esque, zygotes,
Xenophobic
Yodels yell,
"****! **** kindheartedness!"
Matalie Niller Jun 2012
Ciao baby, preggo
that means let's smooch under romantic balconies
and make lovely thick-haired multi-cultural children
I want a big ole belly of wine drinking zygotes
feta crumble eye *****
real live sculptures in my palace
jaggedy rocks with blood streams
trickling into the ocean
salty and brine like sewer sludge
let's go for a swim
could be amazing, or beautiful
most likely exciting at least
light bulb moment: I want to hear yours first
you're so dang brilliant like cerulean skies
fake but still pretty
tell me your story
teach me your lingo language
sil-vous plait?
Non?
Well fine, you're verbally redundant anyway
thoughts made of unsettling murky waters
no light can penetrate
and sweetie neither can you
not now
I'm 20,000 leagues too deep for your puddle of a conscience.
Meteo Aug 2015
in my mother's basement
once upon a time she ******* a clothes line
though most of the time
the line
was used to hang up
hangers
precariously hooked to a rope becoming less taut
as the years go on

the paradox of garage sale hand-me-downs of broken homes
as bodies for clothes become subtracted they make room for memories
we grow heavier by
as the hangers continue to multiply unused
clothes hangers are sacred
they are ghost as zygotes

back then there were days
I would wear my woven leather belt for an inverted neck tie
on those days
tie the other end to the wooden cross supports in the basement ceiling
then tip-toeing up
on a beat-up old stool
play chicken
a game of chicken with nobody
a side of extra mc chicken sauce for the soul

I wonder now
how if anyone would've wondered
if I had died never really learning how to wear a belt
or how to properly tie a neck-tie
kids today wear their pants too low
and parents back then were way too given to involuntary penance

to up the ante
I would write a list on the wooden beams in the ceiling
each time I got up there
for all the reasons I got up there
in attempt to embellish the exit sign
singing ugly duckling swan song echo
sedated by the attempt
training wheels for Icarus syndrome

it wasn't that my youth was in disillusion
I just never really learned how to measure distance properly
a pair of breaking parents
an unwanted pregnancy
"What's with in arms' reach?"
a game of catch
a game of release
a flight of stairs in one step
"it's not your fault kid
but you're gonna have to get hurt anyway"

funny how when you are teetering on stoic infinity
balanced like an idle pendulum
a noose becomes a life-support system
dance like no one is watching

I don't play those games anymore
my bones have gotten too heavy to bet against
memories I still wish to change
knees too weighted to two-step the precipice
on weekends

and since practicing how to use my legs again
and again
I now prefer walking this earth
wearing my belt around my equator
over drawstrings around my neck

the basement has since been renovated
no more wooden crosses
exposed in the ceiling
I don't play childish games anymore
I just do my laundry there
Lucy Tonic Nov 2011
If Alice stayed in Wonderland, I wonder what she'd find.
Would the revolution come? Or would we stay in double-bind?
Did Carroll have a migraine? Or a tumor in his head?
Is violet the favorite color because blood was meant to be shed?
What if a brunette fell down the rabbit hole? Would she even fall?
Or would she be too busy speaking to clouds, which speak to us all.
Would the Hatter be a shaman, or a schizophrenic fool?
Would he be put away on Earth, if indeed he broke the rules?
Would Alice have encountered serpents? Or was she bit from the start?
Would her sword still be a weapon? Or an inverted cross?
Did she believe in holy spirits, and evil that impaled?
Did she believe in gender wars, where zygotes did prevail?
Was there a sun in wonderland? Was it the biggest star?
What if Bethlehem had no nightfall, would they still see It from afar?
What was Alice's sign? Or was she the bulls-eye?
Or perhaps she was the 13th sign, and therefore never cried.
Did she recite the alphabet, and wonder where the letters lie?
A Beast, Love Man, Your Death, Count ZzZ's... (Don't be surprised.)
Is every day a mental health day in Wonderland? Do they believe in Halloween?
Do they remember past lives, as they remember Alice? Do they celebrate Christmas Eve?
If the Queen of Hearts was cut in half, would a question mark remain?
Did Jesus make a big mistake, and so we live in vain?
After the dragon's death, did Alice get bored?
Or did she start to play with pitchforks, knives, spoons and swords?
Did Alice believe in God? And was there knowledge in the tree?
And was this knowledge poison, or did it set her free?
mourning in our mornings of the sickness of lack of love which has dawned upon us
So dark a world, the angels would frown busking at the thorns of dusk to awaken us
How women loved when they vowed to die for love
how much more when they lived to love and lived by way of loving


oh but material, this fake monster that dares go to war with the ethereal
succumbing norms embrace the watmth of the hug of the surreal
and it keeps on knocking and knocking but the ears of the people were shut and soon they would forget what it felt like to love
and man or wounders of earth would rip the purity once more overwhelmed by the magnitude and magnificence of woman
helpless and bewildered, man he turns to violence to fight for his own right

but in these bouts all these fights; they leave scars so deep that they become  orifices
and the essence of woman is darkened to sin and repels all things good
becoming a vacuum that ***** out the purity and well intentions of kind men
birthing underdeveloped zygotes that populate the thinking in society
these halflings tattooed with stereotypes and false beliefs impinging a doctrine that overthrows the goodness of the male gender


so all she will know women are the evil deeds of men and the good becomes illusive
somebody rigged this program , new versions and updates are slow to process
so the image woman has of herself is low
an image of weakness, inferiority and inadequacy
the few men who do come to love, barely make it beyond the firewall of servitude of self-righteous gods and and immortal godesses but what does this have to do with love?


How is it building up the image of the possibility of good men and the freeing of violent and dysfunctional men?
How do these systems and rituals build and culminate once more the image of divine woman?
where man was and is and shall be maleandfemale integrated


There are many religions and sacred beliefs but if God or Divine Source does indeed exist then we as descendants of It/He/She/Them; should have their encoding in our DNA and that is the scribe within our conscience
our hearts
our sincere feelings
our authentic being
our celestial roots

when women loved; men went to space during *******
men built houses as fit as temples
love and marriage were separate entities
children never left home
self was fulfilled because of the freed feminine energy of creativity and spirituality within each of us
before patriarchal systems and woman-oppressing religions
when women loved men forgot about war because to their women they were equal and complete


so now relationships fake and dysfunctional
angry men and vindictive women
children at the helm of injustice
some spend time in the garden to restore
some are in the park not to look for a parking for they have found their place on the bench
they warm the bench not to get fired up before getting onto the field but to keep warm from the coldness all around:
the lack of love and sincerity or refining tranquility

Many have forgotten how to feel for many things are manufactured like products
and people engineered like parts sold off into the market
each business protecting its culture and creed no matter who bleeds
what would Mother nature say if woman still loved?

probably cry that love is being aborted and darkness recycled so material continues to industrialize.

When women loved
love was the only deal and righteous will
KorbydAngyle Nov 2020
A perplexing trust for trial ends this endeavor, a blending blasphemy, of me this court does suggest.

As preening voids, the zygotes, blyme, they be gouging the eyes of the word; not hither then upon the afore, tenure observed as a state, which exiled is you.

Now begin in amorous help. Fiend, friend, to begin hath thou the gaul? To annex this; thus we will begin.

"Player, composite, Sauls of my own form... You can't believe how beautifully, grievingly misunderstood is all that a mutual sanctuary stands for...truly is... or unwittingly shall...and is not!"

Priests, clubbers, Demons, usurpers, lovers all envied of miscue(the default form). Their lives of shores of the Sea of Calamities, stern amuck the floam... temerity to continue their negations play.

"Therein thinking a theory of thought. The theory is Daemon of poverty, the emersion of hope, empathetically ill 'con'.. 'truaght'. As
I had thought. Now be seated, all and sovereign thimbles on tinders of papyrus, tinders on kindling, fires of the vanities...so.."

The Judge said, "We begin again."

I warn thee now, Saints of lore didn't enjoy the mentioned or the heretofore.

"Neither Satan nor God, Fairy nor Preacher could'st so understand that I said, ' I couldn't take it anymore, I cast my very last spell and found myself in bed'"

The chamber abruptly decried of calamity and doom. The sanguine despot of evil's charm pleading for mercy. This tale did not end...

"Of majority I inform 'The persecution had formed a **** and shales of deviance of Heaven's abrupt roofs, feln at no mercy...a request.'"

"A mentor is nor promiscuous and the dabbled in victory is ours in study and form!"
So reckoning for further remorse, no time off, no deliberations for jury's recourse.
Cont'd
"Settlers with lanterns, the mocking Tern with letter did bring'st. A written confession entered this forth for duly appropriated evidence..."
Should mercy do require of
my plea, then bickering, is
of how many, of killed. Which
Jury member, flauntingly, tauntingly
it should be!

Another fluster. Time consumed. Wits prancing on Hate's Gate made deference of the decree, but not for the court, of whom, we entrust all our wit!

"Now, now. Simple folks we've all had our drinking sessions and fancy empaths, who lie on erudite chagrin, not the actual words for which a Daemon does hold within." The defense tried falseness, perjury in the evening debate; as cautering of word with unholy terror should be met with.
"If no further evidence is to be beheld, the deliberations can pass into the hasty congress which we hold honored and true. Be returned by the midnight hour, for it's then with this Daemon, dear folks," the Judge complained, "we'll know what to do."

Valkyries, Cavaliers, Angels, innocents wept as time upon the throne, the jury, until churning of clocks, the jury was kept.
Gathered were children, vixens, nobles and common citizens, as abrupt, did begin this midnight hush.

"Have you found a contempt, a fortune 6 for 6 plea 6? A jurisdictional deliverance of which light can not alone ***** the passings allotted by thee?"

"We have your honor"

And so the final waves, as durational salient crying vows, were set to broken upon virgins, churches, and broken tree boughs.

"Not...entirely...perpetually...free.. Guilty is the Daemon, no mercy to be shown. The sentence is passed, a proclamation which we defend as appropriate, all noting to the taken of, spoken of in the heretofore."

All were quieted of vices with meals made for axes and guillotine, as somber looks denied those unfortunate to find; Skink a friend not a fink. Then the words resounded, a damnation did sound...

"Implored of a vice that shant be similar in any such derivation of a humanity which we call binding, the voracious need to be freed under the conviction of the guilty Daemon's bidding."

And so we awaited kilter to the proud. A slurry of legions both curious and in an ironic way evily proud.

"To scour the Earth in no other form than that of the distraught and unwanten, and begin again the vicious cycle of death with no life till thee's crime is forgiven."

Ordinance and plethora's of charm shall never question the Daemon of said name and claim.

They did'st disarm.

As surely as to the very day until in the future no other sentence could take the place of understood powers of the court whom you have been advised of and; if adversary crosses your path you must invoke with no alarm.
fun little archaic partially scheme and poem
Every part of me recycled
into flies, maggots and dirt.
Give back all that made me
from my fathers lust squirt.

Mom's heavy lifting pregnant.
Her piles, puke and constipated
the zygotes don't know or care.
One day they'll be cremated.

— The End —