Poems: 230122 - January 23rd, 2022

Skip to first unread message

Robert Morpheal

Jan 23, 2022, 11:47:15 AM1/23/22

Those short long days
where anything is nice
but none of it is beautiful
and try to keep up
within bounds
of an off limits sort
designated social reach.

A short step
between not included
and not invited
moves tokens
around playing board
vintage games.

Jaded tastes
where it all went sour
midway bitter times
where they don't give
and nothing sweet
but Saccharin drops
swallowed hard.

Pride is a joke
someone played
covering over
what they took away
though it is all really
a humbling
worthless experience.

Our Scrabble game
arranges body parts
spelling out who we are
within the confinements
of a social dictionary
latest revised edition
who looks who up.

Collections arranged
bits of speculation
still pretending
it is ice cream sodas
and being wanted
as part of everything
being made to order.



Word is there were some
who went to Heaven
would do anything
to escape and go to Hell.

Why some now say
you can get satisfaction
if you know the right people
inside the Pearly Gates.

There is a black market
right next to the Pool Hall
where they sell porn
and narcotics out the back.

There is a bar there
next to the Angels Club
always stays open
twenty four hours.

Can get drunk
or start a fight
tearing some wings off
to appease the crowd.

If you know the right people
you can buy a woman
you can buy a man
you can name a fantasy.

There is a dealer
where angels fear to tread
claims to get you higher
than the Most High ever is.

Lucifer is a high roller
made his peace
and makes frequent visits
to his chain of casinos.

The Kingdom is business
booming and growing
past the white sale
and not for the timid.

Some say it all changed
when times went tough
recruiters were failing
and god wanted his cut.

Archangels turning
blind eyed
to what you can get
if you pay the price.

The forces of goodness
learned a hard lesson
how good survives
by tolerance of evil.



Bodies are fragile
and even hard ones
are glass breaks easily
shatter pane down
countless bits
into viral stuff
becoming particles.

Slow dissolution
boiled down
to anything needed
could not be had
past a forced look
at what comes easy
to someone else.

Beat your head
on feeling something
until you go numb
then start over
doing the same
and for some
that is enough.



What is the point
starting something
that is already finished
only to pass the time.

What is the purpose
to any remembering
whatever won't be
that maybe never was.

Toss it out there
into something more
thrown away
into no one cares.

It won't be good
whatever it is
gets pushed in
to emptied spaces.

Dreams of accumulate
the way dust gathers
into every corner
of everything gone.

When pulled away
we tend to hang on
to what remains
anything it isn't or was.



Real and unreal
of the real and unreal
collaborative gatherings
reveals of faces
form dark circles.

Darkening round
the hollowed
bull's eye targets
formulated visions
divide the never
from the maybe.

No getting into it
in a lifetime
inspires novel fictions
concerned with afterlives
where none exists
and anything happens.

Fields of assumptions
measured out
stretches of string
connecting nothing
to nothing more
than pull up stakes.

Dig deep
for skeleton keys
that open no doors
death rattle soundings
into what came before
those dust clouds.

No returns
from becoming spent
on emptied rounds
and countless shots
along failing lines
of typical sights.

Should have been
but was never done
doesn't need doing
once gone that far
broken to haunted
mystery flesh.

Mix it up
in an ice field
among ship wrecks
until it sinks
into similar habits
of nothing saved.



It might happen
that it comes down hard
against everything
we used to believe.

That type of wavering
pummels the night
with new evasions
avoidant of sunrise.

The new morphine
might be dreams
melting the body
into purified discontent.

The worst dreams
are pleasant dreams
of what we cannot be
and cannot ever have.

We were compelled
into drab sequences
where normal is ruin
and ruin is normal.

There are the lucky
leading by examples
that no one can follow
but most want to try.

It was all that trying
that consumed us
during the time
we consumed others.

The lifeless past
having had
and the stuffing
knocked out of it.

Teddy bears
without a picnic
rampage a night out
on a pitiful town.

Monumental errors
become the milestones
on plot lines charting
absurd projects.

Wish you were mine
haunts stranger words
slapping others' faces
with greeting cards.

Secretly we know
we never will
get past anything
so wall paper thin.

Respecting boundaries
on which are scrawled
actual truths
that no one dare say.

Do not confess
how you really feel
and never say why
during interrogation.

Exactly correct answers
immediately hit a pause
on the walk away control
then fumble fast forward.

Getting nowhere
followed by rewind
playing it again
as if missed something.

The game has changed
to mass infiltration
on playing fields
and a murder of referees.

Last remaining play
the coin slot
local slot machines
play their bitter cherries.

Stay further away
from everything
being best before
and long gone stale.

You become cravings
for all the knowledge
that comes at you
as fake news.

There we know
everything we can know
about one and other
until it no longer matters.



Two faced empties
and you can read
a brand on the front
fine print on the back
label smile one side
dark secrets back side.

The turn around
into the details
where they list
endless precautions
side effects
and ingredients.

Thank the makers
for telling you
you do not measure up
to the high standards
they demand
for their products.

Knife goes in
from behind you
and you can feel it
carving at your own
peel of packaging
as it digs down in.

The label comes off
and everyone sees
right through
your being no longer
and no more value
than a bottle deposit.

Paper that was held
gets scraped away
and there is nothing
other than the disdain
of window dressing
that you cannot afford.



Giving up
on the whole thing
because it is reruns
and commercial messages
already obsolete
old ideas and habits.

No pay off there
in any of the plays
chance made
only wrong rules
and different game
switches programs.

Channel drones
saturate space
inserted vain attempt
amid vague clouds
models actual spread
into vapour thin.

We climb down
from tree tops
carrying what fell
from the sky
along a far reach
distance of waves.

Washes out over us
from the towers
to the battlefields
processions of notes
cascading across
jagged scars.

Helplessly watching
another spin out
careening wildly
out of control
to trash what remains
of possible futures.

We look for magic
among fragments
coming from wrecks
trying to imagine
what shapes and colours
once meant.



The senses
and the mind
are never innocent.

It would be so tragic
if they were
that innocent.

Anything interesting
is far away
from real innocence.

Everything a process
trying to conceal
what was meant.

War always results
from crossing lines
into the truth.

Our diplomacy ends
in the dark
where deals are made.

I wanted you near
but that pushed you
very far away.


First poems of 2022. For whatever reasons they did not come into being easily, and rather than over writing and revising any of them anymore I feel the need to let them go. Once they are in "print" it is as if I have let them go, and can move on from there to something else.
Reply all
Reply to author
0 new messages