Swarming Voyage to Impregnate the Five King Hermits

 

Onomatopoeia stolid –
moon dryer glockenspiel,
Cicada puffs the imagery –
behold the smokeless chrome.

Who exodus meatballs?

Youthful anchorite –
halo glued your chasm
and it spoke discretionally –
thoroughly, mouthed, & sine.

Impregnate voyage…
birth screams…
and the five king hermits clap.

Carmelite queens…
Mascara sperm authenticity…

Meanwhile,
Elijah grooversim
stirred the record possessed –
back to envy
back to subsequent.

The author in you –
disturbed by electronic samsara,
castanets gasp
comb the air backwards
its patapinion licking blear.

Leonhard Euler –
reciting websites,
to mammal feeding…
to Captain mythical crabs…
to Moses four-footed committee braids.

Pet the harking bishop –
of swarming empires
eating at Cistercian eremitic.

Archduke Exuvia –
you Faustian clone,
don’t mention the tenth wrinkle.

Pentateuch diaphoresis –
its rings shy
as fly-infested cenobium.
Trappist Camelopardalis,
decameron spite foe,
away you, dice this facile motley just.

 

 

Copyright © 2017 Charlie Zero the Poet

All rights Reserved.

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49 thoughts on “Swarming Voyage to Impregnate the Five King Hermits

  1. To me, this poem evokes many unfortunate thoughts of religion(s).
    Pedophile priests, pregnant nuns burying newborns, many holinesses who drive Mercedes through throngs of dedicated impoverished followers, the sincerely sin free wanna be-s devoted to evil hidden behind robes and cloaks and the walls of Babylon.
    I digress.
    On a happier note, I’ve always wanted to learn to play the castanets!

  2. Charlie,

    in an abstract way, this poem is similar to a one-night-stand
    with an Italian porno star.
    an American librarian seduced by Casanova ?
    the alley behind the Hourly Hotel would be covered with the bones of poets.
    the check-in person would be wearing a button
    that would read, “CATCH YOURSELF THINKING”
    read this poem three times in a row
    and you will catch yourself thinking.
    I noted that you count wrinkles.
    I pondered if you were really into wrinkles.
    like the more the better.
    or if you just enjoyed a couple of big wrinkles.
    if you turned out the lights
    could you tell the difference between a male wrinkle
    and a female wrinkle ?
    anyway, I am pleased that you used up all the leftover words
    in the refrigerator.
    literary critics love to impregnate king hermits
    literary critics love to impregnate king hermits
    literary critics love to impregnate king hermits

    1. I’m pleased of wrinkles
      With abstract seduced three
      And male ponders;
      Italian hotels
      or fox trot vibration.
      love covers a hermit
      just like Casanova.
      The librarians stop
      depending on time
      and instead,
      focused their attention on;
      Words & critics alike.
      Thinking impregnates the leftover.
      Your poems male the porno one-night-stand.

      Let the poems be refrigerated.
      If we leave it out over night
      they can rot and go bad.
      That’s the American way for such.

      1. you might rent a basement apartment in a wrinkle
        you could hang Christmas lights
        when people from magazines stop by to interview you
        you could play jazz sax rhythms
        show them a photograph of Peggy Guggenheim
        tell them that she was your legal mother
        ——(I’m pleased of wrinkles)——
        your wrinkles ?
        my wrinkles ?
        you could pass a bad check
        and purchase some wrinkle lubricant
        2 of the best sellers:
        (+) Italian Casanova Hot Sauce
        (+) Bearded Monk and Beatnik
        ——(love covers a hermit just like a Casanova)——
        all your life you’ve made reservations for love
        love is never in the next available room
        the hermit knows that love is gregarious and outgoing
        once the hermit gets his foot wet—things are going to happen

        1. ———WHO EXODUS MEATBALLS ?———
          ————–who exodus meatballs ?————–

          I can tell you who exodus meatballs
          your basement apartment manager
          when you are out
          she uses her passkey
          to sneak into your quarters
          she knows where you hide your hermit meatballs
          and she permits them to run wild on her privates
          the Rembrandts are both “show and grow”
          the Van Goghs have longer foreskins

            1. it is true that when apartments get older
              their exodus meatballs journey south
              Dylan Thomas sells a sling to hold them
              think how many poets are faced with the situation
              (+) purchase heroin
              or
              (+) purchase a Dylan Thomas support
              ————————————————-
              the decision could determine
              your bicycle riding future

              1. A situation (+) poets
                determine what armpit apartments
                should Thomas think buzz
                do to hold southwest
                journey future.
                O.J. Simpson
                rode his bicycle
                as a Heroin talk show host.

                That exodus in them
                became the sling dylan apostrophe
                of the older support dylans
                and meatball sub.

        2. Check your hang hermit rhythms some bad bearded might
          should cling to bay.
          Your love Casanova
          sold you a rent beatnik legal made. Both wrinkles?
          Gregarious wrinkles?
          She gets why lights
          and outgoing guggenheim,
          might seem to unsettling
          for photograph & Lubricant.
          The room show sauce called;
          the next peggy Cheers will run
          8 episodes.
          However, they changed it to:
          purchase basement Monks.
          Italian Foot hot –
          could be sax reservations
          at magazines wet funk jazz tones.

          1. sometimes I think that you enjoy
            falling in love with strangers
            you stand near the pier
            and hand out valentines
            to king hermits
            just think
            a young stud king hermit
            in a flesh colored turtle neck sweater
            enough to make any poet businesslike
            fame and notoriety
            trying to impregnate
            5 king hermits
            fame and notoriety
            trying to follow up
            with something oral

            1. You enjoy flesh falling.
              King businesslike notoriety.
              Valentines Day
              is pronounced 5 hermit oral.
              Any hermits
              who resemble shania twain
              should have a follow try king check up.
              And in nosedive peanut-butter
              A think hand frames near;
              Turtle impregnate
              & stand strangers.
              You sometimes think poets
              Love stud-jackets
              looking like James Dean
              well, guess what?
              We are all Groot!

              1. your sister was on television
                talking about spaceships and rockets
                I was thinking and praying
                that she would mention
                her darling brother
                The Flarf King
                human specimen Zero1,
                Charlie
                sometimes pronounced 5 hermit oral
                precise impressions
                strung together into poetry
                spur-of-the-moment stuff
                ———WHO EXODUS MEATBALLS ?———
                readers coming out of anesthesia
                (that is who exodus meatballs)

                1. I saw your sister on the television
                  and she had this giant sewing machine
                  and she was just going 90mph
                  sewing the fabric of existence
                  I said to myself,
                  “what is this girl doing ?”
                  I think that her days of shepherding Charlie are over
                  no longer being bogged down trying to corral words
                  the world of push-cart literature is bye-bye
                  (+) Kerouac, Ginsberg, and Burroughs (all three had watering eyes)

              2. Charlie and I rode the school bus together
                almost every day he would show me
                a photograph of Harpo Marx
                “when I grow up I want to be him”
                and one can only imagine
                the various forms of mischief
                the naughty words
                ****autobiographical sex is the best

                1. POETIC WEAPONRY
                  my Sunshine Lord
                  people in your family were fighting for love
                  it wasn’t the enemy at the door
                  rather
                  bloodline badges with the family name
                  warring relatives—warring families
                  cousins on the backs of cousins
                  I swear Charlie Zero
                  poetry with undercurrents
                  child sized sharks under your blankets
                  fat worms in the pillows
                  what was that crap they forced you to eat ?
                  religion on crutches
                  unborn babies never born
                  all the talk was about raising money
                  to kill the damn thing
                  death was a logical choice

                2. ask yourself where your poetry will sleep
                  (+) a receptive environment
                  (+) a hostile environment
                  what will be your greatest test, Charlie ?
                  you’ve had your share of trouble
                  google you and there you are

                3. HE TOOK THE CEILING WITH HIM
                  WHEN HE WENT TO HEAVEN
                  the poet stripped of excrescences
                  a 1000 shoeboxes full of material for drama
                  okay some stuff was purchased at a thrift store
                  other things may be slightly crushed
                  kisses and valentine hearts
                  the fish hooks look fine
                  PUMP UP THE TIRES ON YOUR PSYCHIC PERCEPTION
                  small voices encouraging you to celebrate
                  Charlie the narrator—Charlie the witness
                  remember our brethren in bonds
                  the starving children in Kentucky

                4. Charlie,
                  in celebration of our possibilities
                  you on your throne as the Narrator King
                  you who skips stones across the metaphysical abyss
                  laughing at mankind—ancestral, living, yet to be born
                  your words lead us to a new stage of transition
                  we may not like everything we read
                  as toughness can never be overstated
                  however, your words bear witness
                  to our struggle to run with the best
                  and leave behind the rest

  3. Oops. Let’s try that again! All I wanted to say is that I had similar thoughts to Resa on this one, Charlie. I love that your poetry really makes me think about what you’re saying. 🙂

  4. I’ve gone daft. I though I’d commented–haha!

    “Youthful anchorite –
    halo glued your chasm
    and it spoke discretionally –
    thoroughly, mouthed, & sine.”

    Halo glued your chasm…my favorite line.

    1. Thank you my friend.

      Heads up! My poetry is weird and out there. Not like any poetry you’ve read here or anywhere else. You’ll think I’ve gone mad! hahahahaha!!!

      I’ll be following your page as well. 🙂

      Pleasure to make your acquaintance. 🙂

      1. Well I guess we will just have to see if your poetry makes me go mad! 😂 I’m glad you followed my page as well and it was also nice to make your acquaintance! 👍🏼

  5. i thoroughly enjoyed this piece, even the comments. So many underlying layers of thought here, however it is expressed. i’m left finding myself saying “What you say is completely up to you.” religion gives us something to talk about anyway, right?

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