Poems: 091222 - December 9th, 2022

[Robert Morpheal]

211122A
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War is a dance
with the enemy
your dance partner
stepping to and fro
in battlefield polish
uniform moves.

Some of the motion
reacts to wounds
playing distances
where carnage comes
from approaches in
too far and too close.

Something will go
down somewhere
felled wheat
and corn stalks
the way fish die
swimming upstream.

There are the ended
and the lucky
knowing endings
formed scar tissue
and the little deaths
of whims and wishes.

Ourselves mourners
covering it all up
self same sorrows
in the usual dark
feigning belief
about perpetual bliss.

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281122A
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We say “I love you”
to the wrappings
and remains of death
once having a name
pointlessly repeated.

Scattered atoms
in an ash pale universe
for the record
that is thought acts
and acted thoughts.

We are the dreams
of what never was
and what never is
captives to the realms
of own impossibilities.

What we wanted
in wanting to have
in little portions
of made up existence
is taken from us.

Should have known
in the long ago
it would never matter
to any or to any when
the stars blink out.

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281122B
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Whatever it was
it never was more
than what was once
to be taken
and then all we got
was it was gone.

Gone away gone
gone the way it was
all sure to go gone.

It wasn't meant to be
and it was gone
before it came along
it was already gone
before it even began
in the beginning.

Gone away gone
gone the way it was
all sure to go gone.

At the very beginning
it doesn't matter what
word was said or done
from the nothing was
the beginning of
the same to nothing.

Gone away gone
gone the way it was
all sure to go gone.

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281122C
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Wire is buzzing
its dead sort of silence
inventions by science
for everyone talking
but no one calls
down that line.

Gossip is
nothing happening
at far ends stretch
squished in creation
to that little between
that fills up time.

It was all going
somewhere where
there is nowhere left
to really go
past the sit and wait
spaced out over kill.

Another advert push
corporeal failure
wag of tongues
wave of legs and arms
as if something ever
really gets done.

We never got there
wherever it was
and the nights came
when lights go on
leaving audiences
hidden in the black.

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011222A
------------

A pig sticker
time of it
along the slide
goes in and out
coming clean
down the sides
that are boundary
made conventional
tokens of squeeze.

Lost the higgledy
of the piggledy
in the blah gasm
stop gap chrism
rubber legged
vergers at forever
played along
the as if games
we once believed.

Stringy hard
bead game candies
the sour lick
beyond the clasp
down the come
gone undone
trickle of ice cube
lady fingered
take of biscuit.

Nothing like
making out
made up selves
short bread prisoners
second skinned
assortment passions
chocolate boxed
soft centre filled
and sugary coats.

We never learned
about survival eyed
up looking head
through a black hole
boarded white dust
chalky starred world
spill over facts
and try to conserve
some decoherence.

A wriggle free
from too tight
lines of cursive
love and hate lettered
misunderstandings
turned to misread
sexual alphabets
in sticky wrapper
and lint ball pockets.

Penny slot done
gum ball ballads
training wheel phased
hook on try
for a catch prize bit
plastic looted spat
out from the puzzle
mouthed crow
to better options.

We dally up
corn grinder spit
a split pop stand
lolly gag option
the molly coddle
yin yang times
gone bananas
at ice cream lick
the red cherry.

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021222A
-----------

This grim winter
congeals its discontent
a frozen slurry time
along the long past
splashed up against
surface dweller
culvert faced rise
shovel handed grime
of colour throws.

Becomes ice peopled
little frozen ones
bundled away
collect mementos
signifying north west
passage cold sided
long rift valleys
in among fictions
that we were told
some once lived.

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031222A
------------

In the abandon
on the left bank
sold down river
is the leaving that is
everyone who left
gone under
and gone over top
to the bottom.

Remains washed up
muddied lines
stretch shore heap
broke pieces
parts of think
blast effect hits
a slow motion life
going down.

Feeling disposable
single use
sort of things
to toss away
into linger wait
bad endings
at used and discard
on the long haul.

Thought it would
get much better
but never did
past the sign up
or the declaration
only a sack
and no one cares
about inside of out.

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031222B
-----------

The shake down
and the shake up
stuffed between
dulled and dumb
attempts at somewhat
nearer expression
in between cannot say
and cannot do
where it splashes
onto bloody rocks
another Mary mess
the canned tomatoes
rotting fish stink
and mouldied loaves.

How did you know
what no one told you
and what is the proof
they claim hides
in the pudding heart
crush on creation
ends at never meet
beyond bipolar rivals
subject to interest heat
break down rates
levelled head analysis
spatter of facts
soils any last moment
past the tumble spoil.

If you tell them
their minds explode
and the lights go out
inside their heads
so you cannot see
what isn't there
on blanked screens
advertising John Cage
appears the ghost
embodying everything
everyone is afraid of
among hurry along
lickety split jerk
around of muscle.

The truth being
good manure
is precious scarce
matters of field
and stream along
centrefold spreads
wet plowing
the moist deep
furrowed leaps
shovel brow into
the abyss harbour
bubbles up times
spent habits clutch
at long safety lines.

Drink deep of it
knowing sorrow
follows fast flow
interlude splurge
of orgiastic
frenzied defeats
marking finishes
leaving in question
what was the race
to a sweetness
gone in completions
leaves only a want
for something more
that is never had.

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061222A
------------

That ambrosia
that you love to deny
in such flagrant manners
as cleaves the day
into portions each
a different longing.

So many labours
all becoming lost
pretense of filled
that vast nothing
that is but passings
comprised of time.

Many the executioner
hones such hungers
to sharpened points
from that adversity
on which we rest
as fettered dreamers.

Imaginings thus fed
on contraries of sated
past endless looking
at emptied glass
containing all things
in its nothing of any.

Left to want for
tastes of pleasures
more Elysian
freed into the long last
parted stale commons
of auguries and entrails.

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