Kitten's Litter

Suck my wound,
you imbecile kid,
rattled poltergeist.

You just wait,
I’ll spread my shoulder blades,
and take off.

Drink this
potent poison
and grow, baby grow.
Now implode!

You just watch,
I’ll unlock the sky,
and we’ll fall
through the stratum.

Suck my air out.

 

Sometimes, I return
to my universe, my covert earth.

Pick up noise through
the keyhole,
or peer through the television screen,
to remind me.

The inmates were always free,
unwittingly.

And I envy their volume.

I too want to hide in hay stacks,
run the length of train tracks,
swing on trees, leap into rigid streams,
just to get out,
crawl out of the suburban skin.

Wheezing for air,
from too much air,
too much space to behold
in a blink.

Just to think, I will never know…

The excess pain and bliss
that a mutual struggle brings.

 

This thing in my chest is ticking nonstop,
I might be dynamite strapped.

Careful not to budge.
Detonate - shut me off.

 

Bite marks on the phone wire,
numbers leak on the floor.

Kettle hymn fills the air,
as snow confetti settles,
tempest in a tarnished mug.

Luxury blackout,
scarfed in memory foam,
I hibernate in retro echoes.

Black water lullaby,
taffy dribbles off my collarbone.

Bathrobe naps on the tousled bed,
and I lean against the screen.

Dab the index finger in rime,
and write backward memos.

Goosebumps, my stifled sighs,
curdled milk on the countertop,
stiff curtains, sinking ceiling,
I wind forward the kitchen clock.

Winter overture is roaring,
the wind conducts, delivers failed words.

The voice rings hollow here,
it bounces off my glass and walls.

But I still listen,
for the familiar noise,
crisp footsteps, nearing closer…

 

I slowly shed the tartan skirt.

Loll on the bathroom tiles,
smeared synthetics and skin.

I am beige puddles,
bait for the pariahs.

The maid will mop the stains
and stubborn remnants,
in the morning.

 

Lanky willow,
slouching, heaving lashes.

Awful heavy.

Sway your limbs,
according to the verdict.

Winds will shift right through,
but you will stand there.

Awful lonely.

Seasons nip the bones,
bleach locks,
wrinkle shoulders.

You send countless pleas
into the opaque fog.
Year after year.

No one will hear.

You know.

It’s awful.

 

"The inmates were always free,
unwittingly."

Free! Free! Free! By Virtue of the Swamp of Debuach in which they reside, obliviously feeding the Sea with their Poisoned Pleas for Sanity, Killing that Will to Be, Lest There Is Becoming!

Become!

I enjoyed all of the above entries, thoroughly.

eMBeMLaHV!

 

I’m lucky to have these scrawny arms.
These sunflower eyes.

My two eager legs, all muscle.
Metabolism with lack of exercise
and proper diet.

I am equipped with a quick mind
and a sharp tongue to speak.

I’m lucky to have the privilege
of the parental love,
and to have relatives
who give a shit.

I cherish my select, few.
Those who through
all the miles, years,
still think of me.

I’m fortunate to have known
suffering,
and to still draw empowerment
and thrive from every stab.

I’m lucky to have been treated, viewed
and to remain a foreign
child, still.

To raise my chin
when mind and body try to
drag me down.

And through all the strife,
once in a while,
to freeze a frame and appreciate
all that I take for granted.

 

Every line here is pure magic! What a great read... I simply love the onslaught of images that you rolled out here, crisp and unique! Great great stuff!

 

Drunken sonnets,
moonlight trinkets.

At the crux of nature’s secret.

Knocked my curls
with a tripod.

Was I stunned enough,
for you dear,
to discard
me overboard?

Watched me,
choke on muddy water,
as you reached for me,
reluctant.

Muttered,
“Sorry love,
you’re my nuisance,
and I am a poor coward.”

Swollen, pouty and gleaming,
soaked in our stillborn child.

Swallowed by the night’s miasma,
I have vowed to transpire.

 

Hm. This reeks of a spontaneous and unpremeditated dive into the murky waters of the subconscious. Clarity is no less ironic for all that, eh?

eMBeMLaHV!

 

Trespass my territory,
so I may inhale your
daily grime, lint and pheromones.

Linger by my earlobe awhile,
snarling and teetering.

Lock my wrists,
and I will whimper
for your tongue tracks
across the continent.

All the while my paws,
leave tender dents
on your background.

Enter the zenith,
orbiting shuttle,
you’ve hovered long enough,
around my planet.

Move in your troops
into the holy citadel, already,
and plunder! plunder!

Get out of trenches,
I am putty now,
to grapple, squeeze
and wound.

I will collect the hard earned droplets,
thread an amulet,
from rubble.

and we will coast oblivion with open sails.

 

This is far too delicious for me to comment on. Modesty prevails, of course. lol.

eMBeMLaHV!

 

holy smokes, -triumph- is one yummy piece... such lovely hinting lines left me tottering on a playground of fantasy, many thanks indeed for that!

sweet kinky connotations, how i do love this stanza

 

very good! i love all the different poems!

 

I subtract charlatans
from history files easily,
and by coincidence delete allies.

It all balances out, it cancels out somehow.

With sovereignty comes grave bane,
and kismet reprimands the daring,
for rash attempts at solo flight.

 

You think so, do you? I say you need to get the Hell out of Jupiter and spend some more time hanging with Mars. You'll all meet back up at the Sun, eventually.

eMBeMLaHV!

 

I don't think so, I know so.

 

Hard pressed to find reason
in the surge of feeling.

Emotions dwell not in logic,
nor formulas on blackboards.

My affection can not be caged
inside a mental box or shackled
by hesitation.

I love like a firecracker outburst
and propagating cinders.

There is nonsense, maddening temptation
humming in the ears and
stemming from the vintage words.

And I, fanatic follower of sentiments,
lust for reciprocal attention and pink lenses,
through which to watch the earth roll off
the cosmos table top.

Love magnetizes human particles,
extends a cord for contact outlets.
And I am the willing and the capable
to endure bludgeoning mistrials,
old rollercoaster rides and bathtubs of ice.

I see no horizons here,
the oceans blend in with the skies,
quixotic opulence engulfs periphery,
no tricks of mind could fool,
divert the typhoon heart.