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Wordonism

For the pleasure of words.

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wordonism

Gone but not forgotten.

Gone but not forgotten.

by wordonism · May 4, 2019

It is often said that the worst pain one can experience in life, is stubbing one’s toe. The sensation of raging fire coursing it’s way up every nerve fibre from the most distal of body segments, unleashing a gamut of neuropeptides and igniting untold numbers of synapses, is incomparable.

But it doesn’t stop there.

That sensation combined with the incredible Hulk rage that accompanies this event makes for a truly surreal experience. The irrational desire to cause grievous harm and damage to any nearby and unsuspecting inanimate object, is only overshadowed by the even greater, even more irrational, desire to cause grievous bodily damage to any nearby body.

That is…Until one forgets their neatly partitioned-in-tupperware leftovers on the kitchen counter only to notice it the next day.

As always, life is the greatest teacher and there are lessons all around.

And as such, I stand corrected, a humble student of life.

That becomes the worst pain. That unleashes the worst rage.

And now, much like those heroic little kittens, from that long ago fable, who lost their mittens, I shall have no pie.

Or more specifically in my case, I shall have no mouth-watering butter chicken from a plastic container.

Photo by Nisha Ramesh on Unsplash

Filed Under: Uncategorized

Awakening

Awakening

by wordonism · Apr 28, 2019

Reds flashing cut through the blackness splashing 
the thin opaque screen with a sheen
of dazzling, luminescent colour
rousing the sleeping soul from the slumber housing
dreams not yet seen, places not yet been
not yet ready to face the day, the pallor
slowly fading away, consciousness imbuing
confused countenance between two states, a daily routine
of rising against the pull of comfort, with no false valour
invading those gateways of ego masquerading
as blurry gelatine orbs and twin stars injected with tacrine
CPU engaged, architecture superscalar
a shifting of being, awareness granted - a freeing
like automaton, a machine, protocol requiring caffeine
sensations of fullness, expanding bladder
pressure increasing, the freedom of releasing
a liberating stream into bowl that gleams.
A new day arrived, started with glamour.

Photo by Anastasia Mezenina on Unsplash

Filed Under: Poetry

After the Storm

After the Storm

by wordonism · Apr 22, 2019

 Against the darkest 
nimbus clouds
threatening rain

growing tempest
of angry crowds
steadfastly remain

in place, alarmist
gaping mouths
repeatedly refrain

the words harnessed
escape shrouds
revealing their pain

cut through harshest
state, light drowns
the soaked, sodden terrain

piercing 'tween starkest
stilted frowns
breaking the chain

revive wan smiles, not just
quiet the sounds
and subdue the brain

birth verdant harvest
rising from grounds
a new life to sustain.

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

Filed Under: Poetry

Wearing the Shoe

Wearing the Shoe

by wordonism · Apr 19, 2019

you stand 
barefoot 
in front of me 
i put on your shoes
and see through
your eyes
telling the story
your voice
cannot. 

Photo by Arwan Sutanto on Unsplash

Filed Under: Poetry

Reflections

Reflections

by wordonism · Apr 16, 2019

Staring at the mirror 
eyes see
a reflection, unfamiliar
gazing back at me
A stranger, clearer
as if in 4k HD TV
the vision eerier
than what should be
The guileful steerer
on a hateful spree
of vicious words that simmer
spilling filter free
a rising trigger
the guarantee
of disappointment, bitter
refusing the plea
to absolve, reconsider
the incredible fee
the crushing toll of silver
asked of me
shaken, I quiver
wishing to be free
of that reflection nearer
than absent devotee
the taker not the giver
will not let me be.

I blink.

Staring at the mirror
I see
a reflection, familiar
gazing back at me
An ally, clearer
as if in 4k HD TV
the vision happier
than what used to be
A supportive cheerer
on a loving spree
of soft words that glimmer
spilling filter free
a vanishing trigger
the guarantee
of encouragement, kinder
making the decree
to absolve, reconsider
the incredible fee
a colossal reward of silver
given to me
uplifted, I quiver
being set free
by that reflection nearer
my present devotee
the giver not the taker
letting me see me.

Photo by Fares Hamouche on Unsplash

Filed Under: Poetry

Lucid Screams.

Lucid Screams.

by wordonism · Apr 15, 2019

lucid screams 
of broken dreams
light up
the night
of fractured sleep
that creeps
and crawls
passing the time
that inches slowly
reflecting back un/wholly
curated lives
of those around
comparison killing
the joy of feeling
the present state
of my life, your life
is it real
what we feel
wrapped in darkness
in that solitude
or lucid dreams
of broken screams?

Photo by Gabriel Matula on Unsplash

Filed Under: Poetry

Sinning Saint

Sinning Saint

by wordonism · Apr 12, 2019

i’d rather be a sinner
than a saint
my reasons for this
ain't
for the faint
of heart
changes
start
a violent evolution
volcanoes erupting
fire and ash spewing
landscape changing
a revolution
taking place
within our
viscous liquid solid
state
of mind
would you?  
if my sins exclude hate
what are the chances
of ascending
to the heavens 
that the zealots
create 
to dangle 
like a carrot
pie in the sky
the final destination
real or imagined
the reward held high
for acquiescence
the silent acceptance
of words
often long ago written
by old men
with flowing robes
and grey beards
smitten 
with an insatiable thirst
for knowledge
which we are told is
power
over the people
drug of choice
the opium of the sheeple
wielded like a weapon
to sow fear and confusion
bring to heel
brought to kneel
toe the line
bowed down and broken
bent spine
before the execution
of that devious act
backroom tactics
to grant a devil's pact
for things our eyes
choose not to see
for things our ears
choose not to hear
water boarded with cloth
doused by the tears
of our
real
blind
fears
the unknown
misunderstood
driving us to seek
the words
of proclaimed prophets
from long ago places
from millennia passed
their ideas in stasis
his story confirmed
codified control
ancient translated
written text
words lost of meaning
strung together and next
to nothing accepted
as changed
though time has marched on
deranged
old ways of doing things
still holding strong
in the populist mind
feeling left out
excepted, left behind
alone
standing on the sidelines
the consuming fear
of being overthrown
dulled eyes trying to decipher
the bylines and story lines
like fairy tales
written
with crucial details
missing 
one side of the story
lost perspective
irrespective
of the evidence presented
and on the other side
stand
the resisters
the brothers and sisters
the rabble-rousers
and soul twisters
the chosen ones that rail
against an invisible system
a prison a jail
designed to cage
and dismiss 'em
they strive to dismantle
what lives no longer
handle
change agents
lighting fires
burning the candles
igniting the pyres
and in those flames
that volcano erupts
altering the terrain
the landscape
never the same
and the sins
they commit
designed to up-end
and capsize the boat
not just rock it
towards
dropping the writ
the asymptote
closer and closer
to zero
to nothing
changes
change is
everything
is everyone
hearing over and over
that common refrain
denouncing their names
losers not winners
deflecting the shame
they are the true sinners
and not the saints

Photo by Hasan Almasi on Unsplash

Filed Under: Poetry

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