RE: Poems: 161021 - October 16th, 2021

Skip to first unread message

Robert Morpheal

Oct 16, 2021, 2:33:35 PM10/16/21

Imagine diamonds
bits of glass
opening flesh
to paint red
with warnings.

Bright signal
dead cores
of exhausted stars
invasive time
into an emptiness

carbon contents
inked expanse
turns loneliness
a making the ever

the ruin
comes planned
levels equal
the constant
promises certainty.

The mourning
not yet
with the never
eternal troubles.

Here comes
original cruelty
primal flood
mock the whole
of creations.

Cannot concentrate
any essence
to real matter
any consequence
arising derivative
totality of loss.



No one
came forward
into a breach
of circumstances.

The explosive
detonation sounds
the passage
paths of collapse.

The sounding
takes too long
due depths
emptied bare.

It is not us
it is not them
only overwhelms
whatever I would.

All there is
so easily
taken down
as overcome.

Roughed out
and roughed in
skeletal structures
of memorable.

It takes more
than percussion
but that much noise
dims memory.



Evils are evident
but I am not
your superman
to defeat them.

You need to shop
for some other
who might turn you
added profit.

No point resisting
the abyss
to leap between
beginning and end.

You must hurry
because it dignifies
a sharp sense
seems important.

Clouds closing
angels going silent
about being
given up.

No one ever would
comfort you
but some might feed

The specifics
always meant
generic impact
at machine gunning.

What is individual
is scars
once held onto
as real chances.

What was meant
was torn off
at the stem
swallowed whole.

The problem
is alleviation
of fictitious concerns
seeming coincident.

The different lies
from the same source
happened by
the same chance.

Pick and choose
remaining marbles
from the sand box
at the office party.

All the dead ducks
in a row
make it easier
to find an aim.

Whatever you say
it was a shot
a mouth off
about anything.



Make believers
in make believe
pulling up
at dead roots
from dead lands.

A neutral grey
colour scheme
ripped loose
from a dead sky
renders the faces
featureless blanks.

We used to know
looking forward
and some strength
for asking
as to someone.

Until it all dies
down into
being forgotten
as worn out
discards on edge
of incineration.

Collecting scrap
too late
for provisioning
any release
into might be.

Real freedom
too far removed
from broken reach
clutches at
the hollow
empty straws.

Pulling endings
out of each other
sharp tongued
and knife edged
a dead search
for consideration.

Failed gesture
spastic language
falling in tune
with a push over
from laugh track

Pointless expanse
endless expense
stretched thin
to razor cruel
that then cut off.



Those sustained
in their illegitimacy
suffering multiplicities
comprised of immortals
and fatherhoods
equally disregarding
base configurations
original and modified
forms of construction
as to shape shift
comes alien visions
roughly superimposed
to cover it all over.

Forms of address
and wild flings
made up pronouns
providing no references
to anything
remaining recognizable
beyond isolate
facts of an existence
tried to break out
and to get over
whatever was being
in the way against
and kept out.

A social fringe
made up totally
from failed actions
and other notations
merely passing
on through
profound regions
that always solicit
more disinterest
ending look ups
and any semblances
to once believed
it was meaningful.

Passing time
is the ultimate killer
having scraped out
the very last
from the very bottom
out an old tin
labelled impossible
once promises
the sad partings
that turned up
among secret wishes
they would never
actually leave.

They all left
making the familiar
a strange city
offering the shock
values of new
having proved out
nothing much
more than a look
down or away
from the obvious
way it goes
when it isn't
really going.



The machine
on the other end
had hung up
after dialing
at varying intervals.

Nothing personal
to be said
and never will be
beyond a trickle
down sound bites
of maybe words.

Make it up
as you wave
your deaf ears
from a flagpole
crowned visage
atop the mess.

It is another season
seems to belong
to scarecrows
stuffed hand me
down things
and used up ideas.

Our lives boiled
down to fictions
once believed
might have been
the shades of truth
debating futures.

In a dream factory
making factories
mother goose
and takes of duty
lead to nothing more
than breakdowns.

Bedlam tumbles
from a ripped sky
pulsating muscle
tossing about
and other objects.

The natural order
being tantrums
heaving up
and breaking away
small matters
and large things.

Rational fears
mingle crowded in
with the irrational
varieties of dread
pressing on bellies
doing steam engine.

Some place bets
on the horse
taking it all
high stakes races
with no winnings
coming in riderless.


A little dose of dilute madness for today.

If you have not gone at least a little bit mad there is really no remaining hope for you. People will make the same strange gesture at you. People you do not know and whom you are certain do not know you. They all recognize something very odd about you and so they make the sign that you do not know the meaning of. A sign they all know.
Reply all
Reply to author
0 new messages