Long Perforates Poems

I need you to sing
the straight white male lead
in Phantom of Our Opera
as a Catch-22 steed.

I don't sing with wit
and I won't dance without it.

If that's a no,
but hard for you to show,
you clearly have...

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Dances with eagles in skinny oxygen
Silence is regal, time is an abstract
I humbly look up, at your majestic existence
So still, so cold, so proud, but so much like me…
So timid in the slap of the...

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My tendon's note
     bends downhearted;
fleshy, wincing anguish
     perforates with whelps
stippled by fiery ferocity and
     tempered grief.

Atoms collide
     without regret;
cunning, backdoor reptiles
     pick the star gate lock
fostered on occult erudition and
     ancient wealth.

Their content smiles
     belie fate storms
brewing; thrashing specters
     channel blood like veins
fueled...

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The life without you
is like a tree without flowers, 
the moon without the stars,
a kiss without lips,
long wandering love,
the weary heart may faint for rest,
and a body without soul...

The life without you
is like a drifting...

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Beguiled by the eyes of a thief
Whose hands have stolen the moist of my skin
With just a breath my very soul he unruffled
With just a gaze he made these words improper; jumbled.
Not like any other,...

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They predicate despotism, while matriculating the 
servile.Presaging them to complacency.Who without the prescience of life's 
cadence,will continue to perpetuate peonage?They who poignantly and temper 
mentally,display acerbic discourse.Arousing those erroneous acts that cause the 
chasm of...

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How do I think of you as 
the past perforates the now? 
Do I see you as the boy you were, 
or as the man you became when 
you broke away from me somehow? 

Did...

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By Paris Thulare 

It grows at home 
It Affects the other part of the family as whole
As dull as bread mould 
They catch the Cold

Relationships start flooding
Friendships start drowning 
As bacteria it multiplies 
As a...

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I sit here uninspired. 
Creativity burning but 
page blank - staring back 
with vacant eyes. 

Searching for a word 
a beginning, a flash of 
memory, an image, something 
to start the literary flow..... 

....but no...

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She is the music to my ears;
An impetus behind my cheers;
She jubilantly sings dawn jingles,
along with bird friends in the jungle.

She perforates the bamboo stems
and forges the eternal music gems;
Disguising herself as katydid and cricket,
She...

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