Rhinoceros stampeded In my general direction. Showed no signs of halting. The steering was jammed, And his brakes did not function. Hooves flew with dust wings Wheeling, aiming between my eyes. I stood open and waiting, I stood blind facing the distance Between racing heart beat And the inevitable last breath.
My thoughts are mice, That scamper down the carpet, Then roll on the wooden planks. Cheese doesn’t delight their taste buds, No trap can capture, Snap their wiggling tails. As they burrow into their asylum, Delivering the vermin venom, Leaving me startled at the sight.
Let’s somersault into the lake, Our ankles bounded by weight. Let’s synchronize as we descend, And kiss, while we asphyxiate.
I really enjoyed Morning (sulky) Thoughts... it was executed well, your imagery / story emphasize the thoughts themselves and create a wonderful little work. And your ending is exactly as it should be, ties it all together nicely. Thanks for boosting my spirits on this drudgy monday!
Cul-de-sac turned me, Begging for change and Starring at pretty strangers With blood shut ego. Astrology is not the answer. I have to revise the future. Shouting kitchen nightmares Still glare at the nape. I squirmed at the sight of blood. Whose? On my fingertips dipped In hot tomato sauce. Baffled at the sanctity Of underprivileged lives. The dinosaur boy tells tales But I don't listen I'm too deep in personal debt.
The balloon inflates, Reaching a climax. Pink latex tempts The needle, anesthetic kisses. Too late to plead or argue, Swift hand maneuver, Artistry of piercing, Without regret. Shriveled rubber shards Lay on the palms.
Customers pay their dues, To the hovering icon. The maudlin procession, Throws lucky pennies into the holy water. Pent up in stuffy submarine penthouse, I watch as seagulls mourn, And hope for an intermission to the show. I shake off lashes from sleeping moss, I’m bored. Still drama carries on. Drunk debauchery of harlequins. Bloated pockets of gold For the backstabbing impotents. Camouflage fashion during Ostrich beheading. I’m curious. Circus rages on. Simulation seeps into nostrils, Coats the eye. As a pregnant bride Jumps off the bridge. A bitter aftertaste of reality. A morning-after pill for the mind.
Morning (Sulky) Thoughts I love the whole piece. I went through a time where I sought out all the family pictures, with me in them, and burned them in a big brass bowl. "Everyone I begin to miss, manages to get away." I loved that esp...
A pitch fork, Fine tunes my larynx. I increase the decibels, But the sand mutes The sound waves. Lest by chance You should hear A muffled echo reach Your ear drum, Will you stir in your sleep, While the memory puzzle Will work itself out To build a portrait. Even if unconscious, Will you still Take heed and Respond to me?
Still alone. Luna above, layer after layer, her silvery presence bwixt shadow glows... gathering, pooling within this darkness, and unafraid of my secrets. Moths dusting this unquoted directness on a wooden chair in this house of sound without windows or doors. What is this pulsing tenderness?
I really love the way stimuli unfolds.... starting with the single image, questioning resonance, ending with the philosophical. Well done. Really cool concept too; I always enjoyed trying to send telepathic messages into my girls dreams and asking her the next day if she remembered any of it. Sadly, it never worked.
Sharpened hopeful despair... but if the prey is willing is it still worth chasing? I could linger on what you have written, till jupiter turns retrograde again, if you so mote it be. Blessed be ~*
How about Unseen shore for #59? "I need a map of your landscape. With the heat of your breath, You tease my nerve endings And mutter nonsense." ...but it really doesn't matter when your invisible. Still I'll say its glorious, and mean it, if only to relish in this insomnia.
Zealous zebras gallop To line up at the queue. Shoving, trotting through The hitchhiker meadow. Curious telescopes spy, Lemurs rally, rotate clockwise. Purple tongues trap sporadic flies. Bamboo antenna strapped, Catching frequencies Behind the metal bars. Whose keen eyes Will get a glimpse at the other side of the zoo? Safety in numbers, Behind concave minds, But who are these primates, blocking our view?
