Monsters (#poem)

It’s years since I slitheredbegging devil
From the antediluvian muck
And took my first steps
In a reeking miasma.
Prying open eyes
Unaccustomed to light,
I recognised, first, evil.
I awoke to enemies.
I set out with purpose.
They must be dispatched hastily
For the good of the world.
I drove a stake through the heart.
A rake across the face.
Forced hands into wood shredders.
Poured molten lead through ears.
Drug bone saws across the crotch.
Water boarded with acid.
Castrated and then decapitated.
Immersed in boiling oil.
My knees crushed the trachea.
A sledge hammer smashed the spine.
I yanked fingernails from their beds.
I opened and salted wounds.
I disregarded feelings.
I disrespected wishes.
I locked grudges indefinitely.
But all my efforts have failed.
The monsters, demons, and evil spirits
Are still with me.
If you wish to stay,
You must get to know them.

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A New Riddle of Cosmology (#Poem)

An explosion beyond comprehension sent allimg_2072

The ingredients of the cosmos careening through the void.

Light, matter, and energy diffused chaotically,

Taking billions of years (as we now know them)

To fall into some kind of order, to establish

Some vaguely predictable interactions of

Cosmic proportion. Somehow, trillions of

Particles began to cooperate to form

Molecules of carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen,

oxygen, phosphorus and sulphur.

Countless others scattered to the stars as well,

Of course, but light and heat and magnetic waves

Traveled 93 million miles from the sun

To make arrangements with carbon and the

Others on Earth just to produce you,

With your weakness for basic arithmetic

And your strange susceptibility to allergies.

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Perception (#poem)

What if the hyperreal really isn’t real,img_3901 (1)
And the news never happened?

Our perceptions are just pixels, photons,
Bits and bytes scattered on a screen.

Gods and monsters both just
Misapprehensions of a troubled mind.

But whose mind is responsible for
The anxiety provoking representation?

Surely some eternal consciousness
Has not conspired to create in you

The illusion of evil and the construction
Of unlimited chaos battering the bulwark

Of what was once known as rational thought,
The eternal barrier against the evil of doubt.

So rest easy, troubled child, your current form
Is ephemeral and passes in an instant.

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For E. Pound from the Thoroughly Smug

I didn’t really understand what you meant

When you said you saw a family picnickingdeath_comes_calling

And they were happier than you,

Even though I felt it must be true.

 

And when you said you were happier than I was,

I knew you weren’t actually speaking to me,

But I decided to stay miserable

Just so your poem would always be true.

 

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Christmas Rap (#poem, sort of)

I’m sure you can tell I’m

Part of the hip-hop community

So I take every opportunity

To spit rhymes like a hot tap

Gushing cheer in a Christmas rap.

When the weather is cold,

When the weather is hot

My generosity never stops.

I keep giving without a pause.

They should call me Santa Claus.

What? Don ‘t know who I’m talking about?

Then you can give Father Christmas a shout.

I’m so jolly in this season of folly,

And I’m as comfy as a teddy bear dolly.

I’ve got eyes that twinkle and a smile that shines,

I like reindeer, but I’ll never have nine.

I admit I don’t have a sleigh,

But I think my Bentley will take me all the way.

I’d fly around the world, but I’m afraid of heights.

So I might just hover, and it could take two nights.

Still, I like to see smiles on all the girls and boys.

If I had elves to build them, I’d give away all the toys.

I’d love to break into strangers’ houses,

Eat free biscuits with all those silent mouses.

There’s nothing creepy about having me in your home,

You told your kids to write me letters and stay in bed when I roam.

Everyone is so trusting, and all seems good and right.

We’re filled with love, and the spirit takes flight.

So, merry Christmas to all and to all good night.

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Christmas Advice for Nonbelievers (#poem)

You’re not a believer

And Christmas isn’t for you

But you can enjoy

The festive season, too.

Your whole season

Doesn’t have to be wrecked

Just focus on all the

Commercial aspects.

You don’t have to be spiritual

To enjoy lots of useless tat.

Or flashing lights, tinsel and all that.

And there’s no reason

You can’t have lots of treats, puddings

and sweets, or just an excuse to overeat.

If that’s not your thing,

There’s still plenty of cheer.

Have an eggnog or vodka

Or plenty of beer.

Just be as naughty as you like.

And promise to be better in the new year.

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Another Train Song (#poem, #villanelle)

Standing on the platform, waving goodbye to yesterday’s train.
Perhaps you wanted to feel you had a little bit of control.
You’re saying you hope that train never comes back again.IMG_2697

A peripatetic pretense helps to ease the pain.
It’s a phantom journey, but no one has to know.
Standing on the platform, waving goodbye to yesterday’s train.

You collected yourself, stood erect, and hoped to appear sane.
I’ve been on this journey for years—the train is so slow.
You’re saying you hope that train never comes back again. 

I think all I wanted was shelter from this rain,
But you’ve let the rot set in and grow,
Standing on the platform waving goodbye to yesterday’s train.

You’re still battling the demons I thought we’d slain,
We could have escaped together and reached our goal.
You’re saying you hope that train never comes back again.

 You wished me well, and I left after the hurricane,
And now you seem darkened by your own shadow.
Standing on the platform, waving goodbye to yesterday’s train.
You’re saying you hope that I never come back again.

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