TM ( / England)

Foggy Incestuous Placation

in the foggy mystic’s frameless delirium we ate ice cream sandwiches and washed down theologies with telepathic lenses til the sanitarium of our seditious sanctuaries reeked of peptides and riptides and rolling rocks railing against the never ending formulations with fragmentations and formative fearlessness inherent to the flailing fledgling sophists who sadistically inject poisonous pungent personalities in their ventricles and respective aorta’s, allowing the free flow of ideals from soul to soul within themselves, the anglican fighting with the agnostic while the Persephone teaches the Philomel about the tribulations of a Tereseus as he traverses the Olympian plains searching for his shack in the woods where he perpetrated the crimes of passionate living, the hedonism of heresy and the freedom of freemasonry, a masticating mastodon once let slip the dogs of war to wreak havoc on the bottom feeders and to castrate the breeders of insurgency against status quo neglect of self, the temporal disdain for the bodily shrine of epidermal bliss filled doughnut holes, the extravagant metaphor for stringent dedication and a dislocation of want and need, the practical jokers of the emoted motifs, the malevolent matriarchs of the unregulated orifices, the seepage of sewage from larynx to realized tremors of waves shuffled through this and that to form the freakish formations of words and hugs in the guise of piecemeal phrases, dangerous tymes introduce the delicate fingerings of pointed proofreaders, those mangled minds at work merely to melt away the pretty layers of truth only to show the rooted rustic lacerations of previous carnage and forsaken piety, the fall from grace can be a wholly delightful experience given the proper mattress to land upon, the proper impetus for the fall and the proper painstaking perception of perfection in the reflection of yourself through her eyes, the gleaming glimmering shimmering beaming beauteous rendition of yourself, what an image to encounter, what a moment to savour and utilize to succor another momentous malicious impartation of partitions to prevent the permitting of predisposed prefectures into the portable potable pouch, for once they have delivered the delicate dainty draughts they then fractionally fragment the frequent slow sippers with their undone zippers and intimate pinchers used to ensure the insecurity of the painters of my lucidity, the refractors of a covenant used to convert the convicts of the convents into coalesced receptacles responsible for allocating the means to any end necessary to acquiesce into a morphed manifestation of mangled flesh and sinewy remains from degraded disposition to decaying insipid amalgams fused by the thin threads of a tainted tincture of my flask of Pandora, the defecated outpouring of sweet leaves into my proverbially empty discontented cup and saucer flying into entrails of memories as sour as the snaking river of putrid rotting hopes and dedicated plagues of ravenous faith infiltrating the mass of blackness ominous and lurking behind the facades of frugality in this torrential rain of sulfurous cleansing fluid designed to detain our thoughts just long enough to entangle our bodies in orgies of incestuous placation…

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Other poems of HIGHTOWER (34)

Maya Angelou

Caged Bird

Comments (13)

The structural rigidity of the sonnet form seems to be bursting at the seams here with the fluid expression of what seem almost to be streams of consciousness. Brave and effective.
Your exquisite words in this beautiful poem paint such a vivid picture, that they make me want to jump right in and join you under the shade of those tropical palms and dwell with you in escasty! So I did, and am now trapped inside this darn computer, hollering 'help! help! Get me out! ' And hope you can hear my pleas! Lovely poem, Tia!
T he magic of you beckons me, I'd slake I n drinking deep from your pure cup, there share A pool of paradise with you my love, clear lake. MAy waters cool this ardent fever fair RI nse us in ecstasy, love's vision make A s crystal clear. Without you, dear, all's bare. T ender, love's river sweeps me, sleeping, wake I n your love's ocean, feel emotions rare. A h! drift with me to distant golden shores MA ssaging softest sand's warmth, spreading toes R est with me, palm trees shading tropic sun I n slumber urge to merge shall surge through pores A nd we will welcome rising moon that glows TIA MARIA's acrostic dream sounds fun.
This does not seem as a mirage to meyet the words hold a hidden deeper secret one may sea...Thank you for sharing these wonderful words a gental breeze..: >) it(s lovingly..
Unconventional Sonnet Tia..Nice content, although prhaps a rhyme scheme ma have been introduced and an ending couplet may have had a 'Punch line'.
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