«Filler Poetry»: Monsoons

Easter Sunday 2019, A4 lowres

Illustration: «Easter Sunday 2019», A4, 2019, Moiret Allegiere

 
I dreamt monsoons as a kid

wired and lying still
and
wide awake
drowning in the nights satin madness.

And overcome with panic
floating in permanent
acid-solutions,
moon-mad and colder than cold.

I dreamt tall trees
and
blasts of air
and
drunk death
behind waking
eyes
as a kid.

I dreamt faces of stone,
marbled, garbled visions
of faces closing in
laughing with silver-fangs
as a kid.

Locked in, stocked up and shaking,
vibrating ferociously with mild
hay-fever
and
ridiculous fever-dreams
stir-fried and stiff beneath lead-sheets
grasping at midnight-straws
the colour of swans
giving birth.

Midnight lovingly left me
drowning in perspiration
dripping of my waxy skin

with

Calligraphy-lips sealed by
mad-monk-kiss
sounds of sweat
and whispered breath

drip

drop

Reciting verses
cold-heart mantras
reading chapters
buried in my pillow,

Repeating repetition
repetitiously

same as before
as a kid.

Engulfed in plague baths
and
cobwebbed whispers
chanting my name
and
hollow sounds of
disembodied breathing
and
hallucinatory tactile
sensations prodding
flesh and skin and bone,
cold as cold and
limitless, yet encaged,
yet
enraged
as a kid.

Bright stars high and slow
dazed my late night
night-light frenzy
calculated
and
as cool as
corner-store bullies
showing down in
grievous ecstasy
noiseless
voiceless,
voiceless
and noiseless
lessons learned from
sleep deprivation
as a kid.

Talk-show gibbering rubbish
gibberish through paper-walls
and
down the up-stairs
and
slam
and
bam
and
wham
and
thank you
ma’am
with white noise
buzz and drone
and drone and buzz
sat I, nonplussed,
dreaming monsoons

as a kid.

Weird surreal dreams
and
wicked wide-eyed
white-out absurdities
went premeditatedly
clink-clonk,
trembling
in a wishy-washy
wishing well
and
white feather fantastically
burning
brighter than the
brightest flame
deep within the
great wild yonder
and
smoke signals
and
varied visions
and
salutations
and
greetings,
singing
greetings
singing
greetings
trembling
weirdly
as a
kid.

 

– Moiret Allegiere, 24.04.2019

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