I'm not coming back
no more vain rebellions

hello to nothing
from the minister of nothing
no ones home but shapeless shadows
cutting across mysteries
of multiple worlds

an empty head
so patient
ghost moon

my legs aren't tired anymore
here in the undergrowth
of slugs slides and slime
whispering hymns needle green

buoyant belly on the rings of night
libation of death
apprehending the void
dissolving doom broadens to immensity
like a light flicks on
wonder wave

Drifting

I will ask you to join me for a walk,
There is a high place that I know
We can meet there on a grassy knoll
Overlooking the quiet sea below.

Underfoot the grasses give way to chalk
As down we go no need to talk
Here the cliff side is trodden down
Many come here from busy towns

Leave all those things behind
Here the sand will capture your mind
Soft surface in waves blown by the breeze
Follow each movement draws you on

Sharp arrow, free as wind
Shot from primal instincts
Gliding through the sorrows
Trying to reach ease
Catching the eyes
Of leathery skin
Shedding below its flight path
In the valley of wariness
Where everything is and is not
A vivid bulls-eye
Two directions, two paths
One pounding door
One that lures comfort
If a serpent can shed
Certainly a heart will try
With internal desire to ascend
The enigma pulling back
Holding steady aim
Despite many who have tried

like looseleaf
going over
a waterfall

this ambling pen writes
into white water

words that tumble
into the depths
of humanity and heartbreak

the dark roil
and staring
into hungry fishes'
unblinking eyes

they've seen so much
(all the river carries)
submerged
in sorrow

and when not caught
in their gaping maws

seen them resurface
to amble again
just the same

but changed
by the fall

The breeze blows away

the best of names

yours may also

but mine is for sure
of that there is no panacea
nor cure

To all who have been made insane
by the hag not having won
let me remind you once again
your madness has just begun.

For he will be prez six more years
as all dem candidates are crazy
so prepare to scream and shed more tears
your sight becoming blurred and hazy.

For impeachment requires a crime
not just hate toward a man
so at this particular place and time
it matters not that you're no fan.

bimbo bunny fuck
a uterus with bangles
shaved and pierced
dried and shampooed
Spoosh, Tick Tick, and Trashed

is it true Jesus is Shesus
and has no penis anymore

i love you
Booty Juice
waddle cupcake bimbo
mambo Dancing Shoes
i am Kimbo the Love Doctor
fucking the palm of my hand
panty sniffer extraordinaire
in limbo
eating scooby snacks and disco biscuits
looking for a whipped cream buff puff

Open to new participants - Primal Poetry - not available in my submission.

1. Monkey brain:

Beats of the ground
I heard a word
rebound rebound
and it was rain
on a tin can clatter

I could see it, rain, patter
drop,drop drum drum
no cave or hollow
was found or sung,
just an old shed
with me deck chaired
and watching the
performance chatter

you are the accumulated shed stuff
that falls under trees
when I hear the beat
I think of this
and all of the subterranean matter