lonely-ing-ness (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

lonely-ing-ness

for way long too long
you been never impounding
those pleasing surrogations
teasing in the lap of your wanting
that keeping on sipping you slowly
from the same cracked cup
of all your stone grey mornings

en-wantonly
you’ve went going bemusing on
in desperate machinations of momentary ruses
as cold armbouchures of this numbing reposing
they swallowing you up erasing you on
in dark vicarious doses
of fondling schemata

and you abiding a little less
each time than before
regressing over and over
in your own behesting
there wrapping up inside all
your pretended pretendings
of what you thought
was meant for you

you all alone in there
in all by yourself
with nobody else
not even you

so hastily demising (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

so hastily demising

puke is honing all our guild-ing mouths
river-lettings of cautionary yellowing
soupingly entangling with chunks of
scarlet red hollaring audacious bubblings
running on flooding all the soggy moulds
and rhythmating knolls’n’holes’n’souls
where we’re all just runn’n on here wait’n

imploding echoes are snoring in the belly
of all our rapaciously ajudicating verdicts
our fawning marble-ling institutions
and their yawning substitutions
and common disdaining ablutionings
are desperately devouring each other
for one another’s cracked cup
of some noma-nating brew
on and on and on and on
and always we acting like
this is something brand new

bubbular-ing (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

bubbular-ing
(no gravity in this swelling sphere)

down’n is up’n and up’n is down’n
and moving all arounding
being here is being there
‘cause it’s all every where
thinking that’s it
when just maybe it aint
but it aint got not to be it
down’n is up’n and up’n is down’n
and moving all arounding
being here is being there
‘cause it’s all every where
eyes still try’n to be look’n down
from a here that’s there some where
so unaware pretending they care
when there’s no such thing as where
down’n is up’n and up’n is down’n
and moving all arounding
being here is being there
‘cause it’s all every where
‘spose i just gon’n’dare that
i’m in a here some where
got my phone
with the camera turned on
so there’s some kinda knowing
that i’m a here some where
down’n is up’n and up’n is down’n
and moving all arounding
being here is being there
‘cause it’s all every where
just a shadow of doubt
this what it be all about
don’t wanna find out that
i don’t wanna find out
down’n is up’n and up’n is down’n
and moving all arounding
being here is being there
‘cause it’s all every where

mesmerizing in fantasizing mesmerizing (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

mesmerizing in fantasizing mesmerizing

afflictionating in addicting afflictionationings
trying to paying no never never mindings
kicking ourselves here dead in the ass
like it’s just another hole in the grounding
arrogating in surrogating prevaricationings
that there’s never no blood in bleeding
‘cause every body they got to be knowing
there just aint no such’a thing
we coming in the salavating spray
of our lecherous asining gloating
spandexing flabby norms
for copy-cat-ing worn illusionationings
so posterizing fantasizings
dissolving on in teasing porn forms
it is what it is so what the hell is it is
promenading virgin whores
and diacritically ambivalenting hordes
who circling ‘round ‘n’round ‘n’round
all arounding right here in our heads
making more’n’more themms like us
stumbling and wandering blindly on
every where swallowing disclaiming
nervously portensively proclaiming
“♪this aint nothing but justa thang
it aint no shot but justa bang
close your eyes keep-on run’n alone
and holding on to the potion
of just holding on
!!!AND THEN POOF!!!
it gon all be gone♪”

this dissipationing OM (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

this dissipationing OM

our burnishings and garnishings
are tarnishing most all every thing
and we’re just varnishing pains
through which we are wantonly staring
slumbering plunderinged morsel-lings
grabbing after gaudily painted what-nots
on dangling spangling bangling tables
over which we’re supposed to be caring
hoping they might swell-us-all-up
into sparkling little care-not-whats

they’re casting torn worn nets poured full
of porning midnight dancing shadowings
luring in patented promisory distortionings
of moldy-ing municipal adulterationings
loitering in jading charms of fading pastels
through which we’re militarily trompling on
patriotically flossing at bothersome notions
our prancing toothpic-ings are dis-sing
of a whom we’re always wanting
just ever barely barely only
always a little lessening
and never not so far

homelessing in our homelessing . . . (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

homelessing in our homelessing
(on in on numbing in our on in on)

twirling‘round spin’n slosh’n
frozen try’n to see a something else
in the torn lap of a gathering aloning
barely daring to be furtively peeping
at the traitorous traces of a fading then
looking all around for any some’nother
‘sides a whom we may still used to be
carefully swallowing our echoing voices
slowly slowly so they making no sounds
we’re spatter’n be-draggling souls of foam
in the spells of our fettering words
scared in too scared to be heard

the brandishing cans in hands
yours and mine they’re shackles
shining here enfolding both palms
each of them deceitfully cradling
our greedy little petty petties and
rolling us up in so we be not feeling
what’s real aint real is what’s real
shrivelling in this aimless impending

our window pains are broken wings
on which we’re both pretending
ensconcing in deluding contusions
how much is it costing us all
for this bartering around enthralling
in to’n’fro danglings on imaginary walls
in our tiny little tiny little stalls
wilting in our public exultationings of
meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

convoluting convolutioning (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

convoluting convolutioning
(addict-tating alternatating)

run’n in this is what it aint
‘cause is aint what it is
no way to be suppose-ing
when every thing it’s goes-ing
and everybody here wearing
the same old new suit of clothes
but i aint gon being like you
‘cause you already me be
and nobody’s knowing
who this whatever be me
no need for any looking
aint gon be seeing what you see
no matter how it’s seeming
aint how it gonna be being
but there’s no need for to worry
‘cause what us doing saying so
what’s causing all us trouble
aint that’us doing just like before
it that we needing to be here doing
and keeping on doing like’us doing
but just be keeping on doing
a mighty whole lot more
than how we ever doing before

the soul here leaving along the way (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

the soul here leaving here along the way
(homeless-ing)

is pour’d out in these hole
right here it is
they barely cannot see
way down in where
they trying to believe
this here is what
they always wanna be

it the shadow of ghosts
sow’d deep in they head
words they is
who never said
and this the fat
on what they fed
“where here they fly on chicken wings
and many little other things
like what they dare
and rub like grease
here on their hair”

is the end of nothing
left in here no where
in the pockets of things
they once used to wear
change rolling ’round
on this moist dark ground
dust here in the corners
where they always never found

touching is (a tonal drawing written in poetic form)

*touching is

a longing alouding

of whispering soliloquies

softlying enfleshing

with no trespassing

a sensuous promising

gracefully consuming

nearly ever swallowing

a hungering caressing

with no fingerprinting

wantingly entangling on

**In a quantum/cosmological context, entangling is a most beautifully elegant and timeless concept

! . . . Me! . . .tonal drawing written in poetic form)

(this self-devouring coffling
of our serpentining norm
is desperately swallowing us on into
a hollowing entangling porn)

! MeMeMeMeMeMe! . . .

HELL NO! can’t afford seeing you
be keeping you from seeing me
and doing all them other things
so making how it’s ‘sposed to be
can’t gon be counting no body else
but this one we calling !me!

this why no longer this pretending
i’m caring about some how and why
i’m screaming!me!
echoing in yo’ head all the time
deeper on deeper ensconcing on down
rapidly eroding our hallowed ground
so nothing here but ME’s be’n heard

this endless perverse-nationing renown
accumulate’n in all up’n’under our ruse
we needing a new brand new kinda muse
dat aint ah’humming and ah’sanging
and ah’drumming no blues

so what’s left for me to be saying
‘cept keep yo’ ass here way on over there
on outa my goddamn way!
‘less’n you gon be here ah’chanting
real loud about !me!

nadhiriwrites

A topnotch WordPress.com site

Author Archives: nadhiriwrites