deepundergroundpoetry.com

Poem for V

  as sturatum
    such
            and other
       puts

keyfolds of golden grey ivory
onto office ports where
                bellgrade arborists
tailor would be moods
alleviates the spectred coated gentleman
and hurries a long crowded shush

everyone always wants to say something about tangiers
I just want to not be placated in
the herders strum
                        this annual scene on
            gladiatorational churning
I just wanted
                  well never mind that
if it can be remedied or mediated
   by cold hard solid facts
   then either way
             I dont know what to tell you

      something about a chancellor and
                              would be peons
            something about a smorgasbord        
      I dont care any longer about the chariot
     and its golden lace flames as it shatters
    through the curtains dome,
    I just want to meld into the highest
   achievements of ornamentation
        on natures most grand relief
   and sublimate an eon of enhancement
           each millisecond to facilitate
    my motivationed skills      
                       to derive the satisfaction of the day
      which is every so be it by and large
   which forces glories through clear ables

secondly, I wish the world to be
  absolved of all scandel
  I wish to mediate the accursed through
   zones of healing
    and council the ouroborus  
           on its most appropriate attire
conciliatory remnants bespeak of ancillary parameters
  and the titans robust journings cater to gnar
feast on the brain juice of world things
               the lichen ball glossilates
                                     irreobly
er, kaping, un chambion bodice
        do sport
                 and enturning meeks to bawd

   fair fell one, erm, more heed on
           let lead lay wide and foster non deviant rapport
       the rhinegold! the rhinegold!
       oh for venice, do all!

and let the crown of saturn come crashing down and spoil the whole show
....why dont you..... why dont you do anything for once
go see the red woods .... for instance....
                ponder a biological lab...
              contemplate all the facilities
             and the coinage of hemoglobin
       do says, or I, oft, in wondering,
      fease upon some irksome enchantment
      and bishop ruin nearly my whole quarter day,
time, that incessant cunt
                  ragging on us all
                 nagging us all on
              pick it up, keep it moving
     seize!  seize!  fear and stay
    the light preposterous of an evening oratory
    in the lake lit medows of spring
 the beauties with their hair like mystical beasts
          the world is a fairytale
                     the world is a fantasy dream
     and I, struggle to calibrate
   oxidate, chamomile, tincture
             gargle, red stone
tangentially mays blossoms send their
lingerings to us winter folk in january
and we can hardly bear the breeze as it kisses our bones
            the cold as it does, getting in the way of everything,
            sticking its snotty nose right in the middle of all things
                 but oh if you just forget about everyone
              and everything for quite a good while how
          freeing a pure you will feel
                until you become devastatingly lonely
  I for one, of one, by one, now know that I am a slave to others
           a weakling like all the rest
   and dont let this fear you to become stubborn
                  be a proud brave and leap into the arms of another
   and say,
                   in all the world there is we
                 and against all odds I know you
                and will no longer question love
               and will no longer get so cocky
              as to think I dont need you
    this is true to poetry as it is to my wife
   as it is to my dog and fine food
I will present myself with honor the next time
at sunrise I go to address the great caucasian sea
           and I will neither stoop to the levels of mountains
     so lowly with my boasting
           or, make deals with the women of sky
     who just smile calm and fairly  
               like being a baby is just perfectly ok
principalities have long been unburdened and
         the crackling storm of centuries has forever been
   heating up to an ahead
finally we come to, feasibility and all the seconds
    in retrospect, the greeter is
      always blessed
                     as it is the merry
                  who cut through the most thicket,
            contrary to no belief even ought assails vehemently
                 by gesticulating certain codons
              nerves appear,
          by reorientating certain intangible hyperboles,
    uncertain gestalt emerges
 so what have we learned
               when ricochets of must insist
           unscathed beneath the all,
      frivolous memospheres berates into delight
   by factors not exceeding epiphany
                 is it believed the mightiest diatribe
            flutters and befalls
  

 ok, now I will try to get different,
      but fear I will fail,
vestibule, hate it, this strong
      force, believes in part of me
    flung,
              no more
wait, it returns, wide open seasons
lay, spread upon the table,
wide open causes, separate the ways
think of the sun drenched lawn and the very concept
 of warmth for a moment will you,
think of why anything more,
             fruit and suckling,
      now you feel it, now I will caress
      am I scared my hands are no good
    tender, fear, the failures of tender,
   easier I lash and disturb the peace,
    no, no, pretty picture, soft and slow
 let it be long and open and soft and slow
 and pretty picture forever, big and smooth
and calm,
                   waves gently kissing on to beach
for ever, sun gently fondling the cute
blue air softly forever,
     a billion bird singing gaily forever,
only flutes and recorders and harps forever
   no no that is the great fear, heaven as being trapped in an elevator
 what silly minds, earth already has all that is perfect
   whatever, water, we are already bored
give us a big smelly whale that has been washed up
               that we may poke it with big sticks
and hear the gas escape its mighty guts and lungs
          and that we may squeeze its sap
                and make lights and coats
                     and we would eat the eggs of dinosaurs if we could
     just for the heck of it
          savages, happy savages all
   crazy barbarians all
                          oh, you,
       say, snooty, thats not the cutest
   its a dream play remember
 none of it matters, no one cares about your points
       we are all castaways on island earth
    and we are clinging for dear life to our mirth
 just get the fuck out of my head
        I belong to them, I am on team pure ego
I am a member of tribe epic cunnalingus
I found my highest most bountiful golden soul during the finale of the fire dance
when two shooting stars pierced across the heavens in approaching directions
and hit one another as if to tell me I was right,
       as if the gods placed their hands on my shoulders then and there
   and set in a finer plane my newly beating heart
         from then on through me rang
     a secret pulse,
           and I knew I could no longer look
    upon the heathens the same
               and so a festive overture always haraangs
           in my hindquarters, and sets me spinning to my graze
    in allegiance, allegiance, ah, there
  my lover, my friend,
         to the cosmic principle,
   and therein lies the gaffe,
                              the humor
                                             the yoke
          that all men carry a hidden tome
     and if all the world were to read them all
              they would become quite bored
    so we seek to write what may never grow old
hands, hands, all grabbing, hands
     all grabbing, hands and hands, and hands, all grabbing, hands
and you?
   et tu?  brute, us
dancing soul upon the flames of sun come to lick the world
                
       do you see how
   barbaric true man is up there
             teetering on the obsolete
     knowing nothing of nobility
  preferring hideous creaturedom
               now I recognize that a poet must speak
              and to hold it back is to hurt
 fungible, what is not fungible
    and what does not count
         in the lesser scheme of things
  yes, we know all to well
           about what is necessary
   doctor, doctor,
                        why has the world been so
                    mucked up in ugly illusions?
           why is the standard now a terrorism
          why is the community mantra wickedness and fear
        why is society a semi civil war

every man is a silly little girl
in the face of the totality of the travesty of the world
Imafungi
Written by Imafungi
Published
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