deepundergroundpoetry.com
Is This Prescience
And all the mud brick houses have
Staring eyes,
Blinking in the haze of their mugwort
Billows,
Wafted with some
Religious pomp,
Toward the four
Corners
And the wind heralds a thousand
Clinical
Suicides
An hour,
Rounded up or down,
To a pleasingly
Symmetrical
Number
And the tattered flesh flag
Flails a prescription drug
Infomercial at the
Tidal arm,
Images of families
And foliage
And a pleasantly vapid
Disclaimer of
Collateral
Sufferings,
Drones along,
To some unnamed
Music
And we are become
Such
Abominations,
We don’t tear out our eyes,
And we don’t wail
The satellites are broadcasting
Bobbleheads
And the rotating banners are all dead
Yellowjackets,
Twitching in a flash of
Caustic
Chemicals
And the machines of nations
Are dead,
As the top of their hills
I witnessed the slow collapsing,
Bleached bones formed a makeshift
Lean to
In the clever,
Busy fingers
Of some
Hungry sentient
Animal, left
Standing, between the
Rubbers and the
Pratfalls,
Dogs chewing through their
Hair,
For a morsel
We’re the prisoners of the oubliette
Of the horror
Of invisible
Death
And the oubliette is filing
Up,
With blood and
Sweat
And all the talk of apocalypse
Was exquisite,
Flames twisting skywards,
Faces masked,
As if some
Horrid
Holiday,
Had commenced
Everyone haloed
In a thin,
Pallid
Veil,
Of dancing
Shadows
And she said,
“Is this prescience”
And I said,
"Press your beautiful bones
Against my ribs,
Tangle your rictus into my
Thinning hair
And chew out a
Keepsake,
For the archaeologists
To carefully
Sweep a brush
Across
Lay your mire upon my
Silt,
As we stumble to a
Halt,
Beneath the
Eyeless
Bracken
And its quiet
Unconcern"
You pulled my hand
Over your heart and then
Into it,
And I swam into the
Darkness of it
And its fears wore
Phantoms that were a semblance of
Men and mothers,
Siblings and children, soldiering
Along a barren, straight edged
Razor,
Trembling with its
Tepid breathing
And hunger,
For clean,
Penetrating
Incision
Each morning we inch a bit closer,
To the bottom
Of the valley
Of the shadow
Each morning becomes more arresting
And every evening we laugh ourselves
To stupefaction,
To an anthem
Of prerecorded
Applause
I touch my face,
Eyes,
Reaching fingers
Fill my mouth
And the air carriers deliver a thousand
Clockwork
Suicides
An hour,
Beneath a crisply
Folded
Invoice
And my mouth fills with blood
Staring eyes,
Blinking in the haze of their mugwort
Billows,
Wafted with some
Religious pomp,
Toward the four
Corners
And the wind heralds a thousand
Clinical
Suicides
An hour,
Rounded up or down,
To a pleasingly
Symmetrical
Number
And the tattered flesh flag
Flails a prescription drug
Infomercial at the
Tidal arm,
Images of families
And foliage
And a pleasantly vapid
Disclaimer of
Collateral
Sufferings,
Drones along,
To some unnamed
Music
And we are become
Such
Abominations,
We don’t tear out our eyes,
And we don’t wail
The satellites are broadcasting
Bobbleheads
And the rotating banners are all dead
Yellowjackets,
Twitching in a flash of
Caustic
Chemicals
And the machines of nations
Are dead,
As the top of their hills
I witnessed the slow collapsing,
Bleached bones formed a makeshift
Lean to
In the clever,
Busy fingers
Of some
Hungry sentient
Animal, left
Standing, between the
Rubbers and the
Pratfalls,
Dogs chewing through their
Hair,
For a morsel
We’re the prisoners of the oubliette
Of the horror
Of invisible
Death
And the oubliette is filing
Up,
With blood and
Sweat
And all the talk of apocalypse
Was exquisite,
Flames twisting skywards,
Faces masked,
As if some
Horrid
Holiday,
Had commenced
Everyone haloed
In a thin,
Pallid
Veil,
Of dancing
Shadows
And she said,
“Is this prescience”
And I said,
"Press your beautiful bones
Against my ribs,
Tangle your rictus into my
Thinning hair
And chew out a
Keepsake,
For the archaeologists
To carefully
Sweep a brush
Across
Lay your mire upon my
Silt,
As we stumble to a
Halt,
Beneath the
Eyeless
Bracken
And its quiet
Unconcern"
You pulled my hand
Over your heart and then
Into it,
And I swam into the
Darkness of it
And its fears wore
Phantoms that were a semblance of
Men and mothers,
Siblings and children, soldiering
Along a barren, straight edged
Razor,
Trembling with its
Tepid breathing
And hunger,
For clean,
Penetrating
Incision
Each morning we inch a bit closer,
To the bottom
Of the valley
Of the shadow
Each morning becomes more arresting
And every evening we laugh ourselves
To stupefaction,
To an anthem
Of prerecorded
Applause
I touch my face,
Eyes,
Reaching fingers
Fill my mouth
And the air carriers deliver a thousand
Clockwork
Suicides
An hour,
Beneath a crisply
Folded
Invoice
And my mouth fills with blood
Published 24th Mar 2020
Author's Note
Copyright © 2020 by Daniel Christensen. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 22
reading list entries 13
comments 28
reads 1042
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
24th Mar 2020 3:06am
I find this pendulum sway ....horrified ...seduced....clinched teeth.....bowed dreamy eyes.....
Like a plumbob of red hot rock, and my face can feel the heat of it
Like a plumbob of red hot rock, and my face can feel the heat of it
26th Mar 2020 5:36pm
26th Mar 2020 10:49pm
24th Mar 2020 7:11am
Daniel, this is an example of our reality composed in an elegant flow.
You're blunt yet delicate with your vast knowledge of literature.
Thank you for this.
In awe as always,🙏
L.
You're blunt yet delicate with your vast knowledge of literature.
Thank you for this.
In awe as always,🙏
L.
26th Mar 2020 5:37pm
That's the edge I try to stay astride. Thanks sugah. Be safe and proceed in calm abiding. 💖
24th Mar 2020 7:29am
26th Mar 2020 5:44pm
24th Mar 2020 2:11pm
Oh, you smooth killer. This is wicked and black, I love it. I love the formatting, the use of language, the drops mid sentence. Slashing work, sir.
26th Mar 2020 5:38pm
Anonymous
24th Mar 2020 8:04pm
you may have no idea of how much of this I am literally drooling over. you play with the switchblade, its gut-cutting inhalation and its withdrawal - its exhale like a I dont know what! completely adored it.
26th Mar 2020 5:42pm
Love the metaphor my friend. Kick ass. It's always a pleasure. Be safe and proceed in calm abiding. 💖
25th Mar 2020 1:46am
26th Mar 2020 5:42pm
25th Mar 2020 4:22am
Oh Daniel! This powerful ink cuts through the flesh and bone...deep down int our existential soul...where our dark shadows wait to pounce. Brilliant!!!
Peace...Harry
Peace...Harry
26th Mar 2020 5:44pm
Thank you Harry. I was listening to music and I felt this need to try and expound a bit on the tensions of our times. Stay safe and proceed in calm abiding. I take refuge in the dharma daily. Sometimes twice daily of late lol
27th Mar 2020 4:29am
28th Mar 2020 7:57am
from our comfort zone
we have lost the ability to adapt,
settl'd in to that spot on the sofa that has conform'd to our
fast food arses
content
numb
then confront'd {&} affront'd
how dare nature regroup
rebalance
keep us on our netflix & chill toes
[the gall]
***
i love this, daniel
the terse lines, the tight structure
the breathless pace clutching at my lungs
the imagery is_ in places_ macabre & beautifully grotesque, which appeals to me every time...
... the narrative moves with the time of every hour on the hour,
such an excision
oh i do adore this
🖤
we have lost the ability to adapt,
settl'd in to that spot on the sofa that has conform'd to our
fast food arses
content
numb
then confront'd {&} affront'd
how dare nature regroup
rebalance
keep us on our netflix & chill toes
[the gall]
***
i love this, daniel
the terse lines, the tight structure
the breathless pace clutching at my lungs
the imagery is_ in places_ macabre & beautifully grotesque, which appeals to me every time...
... the narrative moves with the time of every hour on the hour,
such an excision
oh i do adore this
🖤
30th Mar 2020 1:29pm
I was thinking of Netflix when I spoke about laughing ourselves to stupefaction. That is well said. I'm glad it spoke to you. I love your work.
I was watching There Will Be Blood again the other day and thinking about all the carbon monoxide emissions even back then, sowing the seeds of our tomorrows.
I was watching There Will Be Blood again the other day and thinking about all the carbon monoxide emissions even back then, sowing the seeds of our tomorrows.
yes the definitive precsience.. from all the fastforwarded destiny we are in now.. the corporatism the consumerism & all that the earth unbearably in the collapsing for long in all the lies & politics.. now taking a steep rise in a peaking decline .death. it feels the intensely gripping tearing last moments of flashing realizations that's choking bleeding one more.. your way of words moves me to a teary nothings of dissolution in those inevitable emotional raids .. i see therein somewhere a thin spark of hope thickening in all the LOve that holds us .. that's what the cosmic secret is .. that what i drink in all your words & work Daniel... You are amazing in all aspects & departments of Poetry.. in clinical precisions, in inexplicable somethings called the x-factoring Love & emotions & all the humaneness in scripted pages & life.. that will & shall survive us.. amidst all worst fears & deaths.. in the facing . Write on your Soul more.. Loved the typical Daniel-esque flow of poetics.. as if live emotions in feltness as if the reeling in Love all well in inner .. in a cinematic zooming in intensity .. My respects adorations light & love ev .. Keep well these times dear x:)
6th Apr 2020 5:29pm
Thank you Uma. *hugs* Your depth of perception is a gift to me and everyone. There is a sense of hope amidst all the darkness in this write. I am so glad that came across.
23rd Apr 2020 6:51pm
Wow I see what you mean.... I see why you are top in this site your poems are flawless and captures (hope I said the right wording)you in. Very intriguing and a beautiful piece
Joanna
Joanna
I wouldn't say I am a top author here sugah. That requires a lot of politicking, which I will not engage in. There are a handful of people that are very kind to consistently peruse my works though. Thank you :)
23rd Apr 2020 8:26pm
18th May 2020 11:43pm
19th May 2020 7:21pm
Not a usual genre choice for me, but fitting for the zeitgeist. Thank you. 💖
27th May 2020 00:32am
Goodness! That middle section was such a balm to all the other shit from the beginning!
Not that your poem was shit. Just the subject matter.
“Press your beautiful bones against my ribs....”
I couldn’t stop reading, even though I wanted to. The way it’s formatted just forces the eye to keep going and I’m so glad I did. Well done!
Not that your poem was shit. Just the subject matter.
“Press your beautiful bones against my ribs....”
I couldn’t stop reading, even though I wanted to. The way it’s formatted just forces the eye to keep going and I’m so glad I did. Well done!
27th May 2020 1:32am
lol Thank you sugah and it was great talking to you during the open mic. 💖🙏 That Sibyl is a character, eh? 😅
27th May 2020 1:33am
you're welcome, sugah! ha!
it was a good time during open mic and i hope we do it again sometime!
it was a good time during open mic and i hope we do it again sometime!
