Poems: 230122 - January 23rd, 2022
Robert Morpheal <[email protected]>
| Newsgroups | alt.arts.poetry.urban |
|---|---|
| Message-ID | <[email protected]> |
271221A ----------- 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. ------------------------ 010122A ----------- 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. ------------------------ 010122B ----------- 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. ------------------ 020122A ----------- 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. ---------------------------- 040122A ------------ Real and unreal nightmares 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. ---------------------- 080122A ------------ 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. ------------------------------- 180122A ------------ 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. -------------------------- 200122A ------------ 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. --------------- 220122A ------------ 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.