herein lies a
conceptual
emotional
winding
a woollen complexity
rough on the tongue
dry in the throat
a faux love
a preternatural writhing
a knocking on the inner skull with hammers
little god diggers
and
gold wishers
driving within to my without
taking aim
hmmm
it doesn’t take a brain surgeon
to see
that the only solution
here
is hot tea and toast
enigma
inexplicable
mystery….
emitting of power spritz
sparkling
flesh juice
in this mushroom
this walnut
this organ
of
insanatorium
set up
so
when we touch fingers
invisible things
fly off antennae,
vibrant rays of extra terrestrial
zzzt zzzt wire
hmmmm
watch your wet tongue
human
it will set you
on fire!
and do you think I could see her,
feel her
smell her?
do you think I could find her
flower-eyed
softness,
her flowing pelt,
her intrepid glee…?
I heard her purring,
permeating,
beneath me
I am sure,
within my own blossoming pages…
still….
was she even there
or
was she just a wisp
a climbing, fleeting moment
of undue grace… ?
meant to be
absorbed
dissolved
tasted
but
never
written
down
OPEN this envelope
and in the smooth
yet sharp cornered sheets,
between the scent of fingertips
beyond the spreading ink
is poetry, sapling green
with story fine tears
blood crimes and flowers fight to reveal
each a resplendent joy…..
so sniff it,
and then tip it
to release
a flow of tiny wise stars
There is sweat and magic in her creases
a fragrant treasure
a fervent secret
there is a flashing
world of neurocracy
there is red
and there is black
there is in fact
a luminous universe
I smile quietly
at this silken craven thought.
up the middle
like stitches
a seam
it seems
unfolding
unpeeling
unpicking
stitches
witches
a witch with a stitch
to rip the seams
with my screams
I love you
I know you
I fear the quantum world of reality creation
no not really true…. but if you say it you might make it true……
soO
be careful!
of
words that are used to hold you
in a mind box
constructed from the scraps of someone elses fear
rip
R I P
stitch by bloody stitch.
I can breathe under water
I can learn Japanese
I am love.
Who said that?
Your Brain is a Radio that Does What its Told
Haikus Senryus and Tankas about anything and everything
Poetry
musings on life | bits of psychology | attempts at poetry
In other countries individuals go to jail and/or die for weblogging. While the bulk of this country makes the internet an extention of T.V.
Let me inspire the possibility of what could be
"where creativity roams free"
The Poetry Monarch.
Sometimes serious, often humorous personal musings on life, death, and everything in between from someone once chased by a killer Canadian goose.
JEFF CALLAWAY
Darkness, delusion, smeared with a stick of butter and laughter. Words collide, they bring forth death!
Hoping to inspire the world one word at a time.
Sharing my poetry to help end the stigma about mental health
well, come on in. bite. chew. spit.
He started Writing, The paper started speaking...
