Noise

 

image a chorus

of grunts, burps and farts

groans and whimpers,

giggles and creaking parts

 

what kind of concert

would this be

tickling my nose

and fitting my ears to a tea

 

such earthy music

of human refrain

creating a connection

to symphonic pain

 

what could I add

to make it even better

maybe an off-key singer

screaming unfettered

 

the music must adjoin

with the putrid aroma

in immaculate dissonance

creating a coma

 

and as the mirrors

shatter and splay

there arises commotion

on this discordant day

 

but one thing is good

it is easy to join

this fabulous group

of gross phrases to coin

 

what key are we in

I ask at this time

no one really knows

now ain't that a crime

 

DeaBeePea 3-8-19

Noise

 

image a chorus

of grunts, burps and farts

groans and whimpers,

giggles and creaking parts

 

what kind of concert

would this be

tickling my nose

and fitting my ears to a tea

 

such earthy music

of human refrain

creating a connection

to symphonic pain

 

what could I add

to make it even better

maybe an off-key singer

screaming unfettered

 

the music must adjoin

with the putrid aroma

in immaculate dissonance

creating a coma

 

and as the mirrors

shatter and splay

there arises commotion

on this discordant day

 

but one thing is good

it is easy to join

this fabulous group

of gross phrases to coin

 

what key are we in

I ask at this time

no one really knows

now ain't that a crime

 

DeaBeePea 3-8-19

Slaughtering-One

 

I like that you are crazy with me,

And as sophisticated

A well-read Vonnegutarian

And silly in frustration’s plea

 

And yes, I am crazy too

Living in a lop-sided world

As I am continentally drifting

Into an oily sea

 

You are funny and brave

Yea… that is my aspiration too

Playing with words and free-behaved

And humble in my brilliance!

 

I mingle with everyone

Or so I say with a pubbish smile

But I repel the fat-cats

Because of their bullshit resilience

 

You are in my heart

Because you survive

And I like reading your mind

And being wrong, every time

 

It doesn’t matter if you love me

Because I’m not sure if you’re real

You come and go

And turn ideas on a dime

 

This madness had better not end

As it stumbles through day and night

A thought between glasses

Of magically stimulating wine

 

And as I think of peeling a grape

There is a fermentation

An acceptance of limitation

Where noting is really fine

 

But why does this silly happiness

Rear its clownish head

Thinking I’m content

With my freshly baked loaf of bread

 

I will not walk under the moonlight

And bare my kaleidoscopic soul

As that lunar face sneers

Contemplating what I said

 

I don’t mind losing my mind

For it is comfortable in being lost

And if you look for it

You might find a frivolous poem

 

This journey will someday end

But for now I will tromp

While… sadly I roam

Far from the old folks at home

 

DeaBeePea 3-7-19

North

 

I remember

The crackling silent light

The trees like twisted vines

Colours of heaven

And spookiness

As happy as a lollipop

My loneliness a shiver

 

There is no moon

Or sun

The roof is only my thoughts

A village is my confusion

Transformed to a magic castle

My starvation

Is a numbing quiver

 

The rocky beach

No room for feet

but my evacuated eyes

listen to my ears

I whisper

Knowing this voice

Is mine

 

The turquoise patches

Dancing on the surface

Reflecting aught

A most beautiful nothing

I think of reasons

For this painless ache

a contended pine

 

and clinging to my face

is a clutching awe

keeping me from falling

to the world’s edge

an open mouth

of temptation

asking for my advice

 

this place out-flung

but somehow fenced

by selfishness

and a sudden knowing

of love

without meaning

an unnamed spice

 

Scattered

On all the seasons

Fragrant in stillness

The boat has sunk

But I have wings

As I crop dust the shore

As the welcoming mist sings

 

DeaBeePea 3-6-19

Era

 

Stretching

In sleeping pain

With the naturalness

Of a waking dog

Looking

 

For sunlight

Shedding light

On me

In self-embarrassment

Booking

 

My day

Things which please

Regardless of my blemishes

And paled skin

Bold

 

Shouting

No particular place

Acceptance of the naked

Ideas and truths

Sold

 

Opening

The windows

As particles tickle

My crescendoing voice

a Song

 

not Knowing

Right or wrong

In this vast realization

The walls become air

Belong

 

Everywhere

Becoming grey

Like a stormy sky

Encrusted joints

Stopping

 

Circling

A curious bird

Overlooking that image

I am a mirror

Agitpropping

 

Laughing

I feel the shredding

Elephant skin

And flying peanuts

Mockery

 

Darkness

Disappears in the patina

of all the yesses

opening my tired eyes

to a Rockery

 

Stones

Placed erratically

And the water

Coming from my imagination

News

 

To me

A Renaissance

Leading to joy

Reasonable facsimiles

Clues

 

DeaBeePea 3-6-19

FLOP

 

Flappy Jack they called him

Oh how he loved it

Making glamourous batters

That received a multitude of flatters

 

Champagne and peach

Were those wonderful crepes

So light and espris

Fitting everyone to a tea

 

And his beer and cinnamon cakes

With shredded cocoa chips

Almost tasting like malteasers

a chocolate-lovers appeaser

 

and the lemon jacks

with whipped cream sky high

and that creamy filling

oh! That gave him top billing

 

oh yes… the blackberry blini

now that was a treat

fried in peanut oil

his guests so permanently spoiled

 

Now those banana flappers

With French vanilla ice cream

And topped with Galiano

As joyous as a tinkling piano

 

But when it comes to plain

With just buttermilk and shortening

There arises an issue

That required very large tissues

 

At his latest event he flipped very high

And the ceiling became a mural

Of spongy circular tiles

A variation on baldachin styles

 

And it was a week later,

Twas the day they came down

The kitchen was full of chili cooks

Who were now on tender hooks

 

So when their heads were adorned

With these griddled flat-hats

They became a new fad of the day

Called a flapjack beret

 

DeaBeePea 3-6-19

A feminist poem that I have composed this morning inspired by my recent reading of Anne Bradstreet.

 

Exposure

 

What is the offspring of my feeble brain

Bouncing like a ball

Down slippery streets

Avoiding hell-bound ditches

 

After birth I start to laugh

And listen to chronic ignorance

Dividing friends; between

Sincerity and idle pitches

 

I feel exposed

To those public eyes

In what I think are tattered rags

A rambling brat, of mother’s call

 

The light thus; does shine

And I feel the taunting warmth

That photosynthesizes my face

Into its vocal poetic crawl

 

I blush in horror

But yeah a crimson of love

Looking at the gowns

That sweep before my passionate eyes

 

I amending my blemishes

As my arms in confident stretch

To women of raking foresight

Collecting the leaves that rise

 

I wade through the flaws

Of humanities tricky game

My new dress trimmed to hold

A homespun sword wield

 

is there vulgarity to fear

Thus dampening my scream

But no, the anger is sharp

As I walk behind my shield

 

But nay: not fear

But thoughtful caution

Searching for that bolted door

Opening to vengeful fire

 

What is this to conquer?

A man’s world so derelict

Of no steady streams of love

Facing hate and a dreadful mire

 

This dream has awoken

But hope is tired and weak

But the march of many feet

Is a song of muscled truth

 

The critics comminuted

And enemies brought to moral trial

Alas the power of vulnerability

Born of freedom’s deciduous tooth

 

DeaBeePea 3-4-19

Sidewalks

 

Does she linger so idle

Gathering work and yawns

This tiring load

A sack of threadbare hope

 

she marches

Her tarry is a loathful drag

In scorn of her place

Within a throng to cope

 

Is there a mission

Before her lounge and sun

The long-drawn days

A hopeless song?

 

the dreams begin to launch

What was happiness

Is now a past of nothingness

Of ignorance and wrong

 

contentedness is blowing away

And her glass begins to trickle

The water of distaste

Cold hands now a fist

 

moved by her unknown days

Losing all the pity

Angry at the motionless

And her stagnant emotional cyst

 

what is the new deal

Can it be spoke

Is there danger or new fear

For an infinite voice you hurl

 

her clothes begin to tighten

No longer a sail

It is her skin that arrives

In her inspired churl

 

her hair changes colour

In its flaming red strands

Sometimes pointing twigs

Pricking the worlds trees

 

that stand for single dominance

Shadowing subjects of scorn

Breaking and ebbing away

What is the wardrobe she sees?

 

is there grace?

Not a worry in point

As the steps she takes are loud

Laced in potent discourse

 

The sisterhood holds hands

The new and rosy cheeks

Not from bitter cold

but a union of loving force

 

DeaBeePea 3-2-19

I Want to Take a Holiday

 

Perspiration for nothing

And realization

Am I entering

A Twilight zone

 

My words blasé

And a stale mind

Reading others

That times have sewn

 

Is the mirror mundane

And breath so quiet

Eyes so focused

Blinded in light

 

Where is the door

And is there a reason

To walk into another

Creative blight

 

So where is this place

A rainbowed beach

Or rugged shore

Of sharpened rocks

 

Speechless people

Of foreign thoughts

An introduction

To alternative phrases

 

That sound like music

And dance with love

Promising romance

And moonlight walks

 

Is it in the past

in Daybreak Grey

with those Frankfort Berries

and Vivekananda’s gazes

 

The cotton-picker strum

And Toodle-Oo’s notes of joy

Giving weeks and days

Of mesmerizing thunder

 

Is this where I live

In my fictionalized hotel

Living dreams

And drinking ageless wine

 

I feel the freedom

Wrapped in former dignity

Absorbing respect

Amidst the world asunder

 

And the ears entertain

That laugh and cry

Taking my voice

In a fictional shrine

 

DeaBeePea 2-23-19

A Year Older

 

66

such a fun number

it's attractive

works well upside down

but I won't live that long

in my birthday song (suit?)

 

divisible by identicals

like 11 and 22

also 33

so I will divide

my day into sections

of various inflections

 

my mind is young

and body aging

no changes evident

but I sense a wisdom

that I humbly announce

before critics pounce

 

celebration is easy

as my wine ferments

just like my mind

in its nodding restraint

viewing the crazy world

my anger unfurled

 

but I do it in poetry

instead of screams

it makes me mellow

as imagination squirms

thinking of funny rhymes

while I count my dimes

 

all the wishes are great

aren't people awesome?

I count my blessings

so thankful for friends

as my greyish exterior

implies the inferior

 

but no, it's just years

quite a natural thing

a universal phenomenon

and no, I'm not worried

because I'm alive today

and quite able to play

 

and tomorrows are uncertain

but I do have some plans

including travel

through glorious lands

happiness will never die

even if I cry

 

because sadness and laughter

work hand in hand

a juxtaposed chaos

keeping me moving

here's CHEERS to life

and a partying rife

 

DeaBeePea 2-19-19

Fences

 

So many boundaries

around us all

hoping to keep us

from a stumbling fall

 

countries and yards

regulations and rules

fences and walls

in spirit’s stall

 

this organization

called mankind

articulating fear

in better and best

 

the lines are drawn

with arbitrary power

weakly dotted

in escaping jest

 

where is the heart

in silly lines

wiggling and squirming

like a hostile snake

 

what is the experiment

we hopefully ask

doubting the result

in nature’s quake

 

we call it politics

but that’s too simple

there’s hate involved

in this perilous zone

 

safe or secluded

we know not which

as we hesitate

to turn the stone

 

I feel these contours

Within my soul

And find some answers

With opening eyes

 

There is a chill

Down to my bones

My mind is looking

For those audible cries

 

it’s time to admit

the border is me

questioning others

and their suspicious glee

 

this link must be broken

for us to see

humanity’s hopes

to set us free

 

DeaBeePea 2-15-19

Fight for Humility

 

These are outsiders, always.

Unlike the stars

Evaluating the seasons

And light and dark so calm

 

Thousands of years

These inklings of wisdom

Our heads over-scratched

With our outlying palms

 

Our pain inflicted

With our selfish knives

Slicing our bread

In greedy anticipation

 

Dare I say,

Are we on the other side of history

Values and laws

In sneaky segregation

 

We bend down and pray

Denying the friendly ear

Sitting in an invisible throne

Drowning in hopeless tears

 

What does it mean

This human thread

Is it some kind of honour

Demanding cheers

 

Because I cannot see beyond

I take notice

Of a designated course

With mortality’s tale

 

Therefore; I ask

What is the choice

Do we dare to read

The obvious mail

 

Myth is written

Orbiting through the stars

Connecting magic

To our unbending mind

 

Rivers, roads and imagination

All take us there

As we travel in time

All our senses that we find

 

This ordeal, need not be

The gifts have been laid

Under our tree

Ever green in its love

 

How slowly I die

In this awakening

Is there a power to shine

On the humility we must behove

 

DeaBeePea 4-5-19

New Hemisphere

I

The grey sea and the long black land;

Visions like a shell

Seeing in partial halves

Like a suddenly stopped, ringing bell

 

Drops of water taunting

As I think of such a warning

But before my realization occurs

It is a bright new morning

 

Blinding me with sand

Sprinkled over my face

Reminding me of oceans

And my human-bound disgrace

 

The half-moon smiles at me

Threatening to swoop down low

Taking me somewhere

Where my enlightenment takes a blow

 

And the tidal waves leap at me too

The whitecaps tickle my nose

Swirling and playing

With my shifting dreams to impose

 

Fiery ringlets of contradiction

As I fear of losing my prow

My navigational instincts

Dripping from my sweaty brow

 

II

My beaches are my wandering mind

In its warm-scented bask

Looking at scattered psamma

And its vulnerable seaside mask

 

Is there an unopen window

With a pristine and untouched handle

For me to light, and set beside

A glowing modest candle

 

The lighted match skims me

And a voice from within me screams

I am afraid of this voyeuristic game

That shy curiosity deems

 

My joys and fears so intoxicating

My every move so watched

Cannot humility and awareness

Avoid this self-penaltied botch

 

These simple times and actions

Of such little intrinsic cloth

Tearing at the insecure being

Dressed in colour and froth

 

So this smooth and golden floor

My footprints imbeded in moment

Yes, I am here, my mind

Directing my hands in foment

 

DeaBeePea 4-1-19

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