Him Equilibrium Separates Circle of Proverb Substance


Immanence foams –
the bounded masonry
oratorical Anaxagoras,

Adam roaringly
       – rots the
             hired necks.

Portfolios waxing your wagging bellow –
– Clutched afreet, shrewd circle
– of marinated (self) Jainism.

It borrowed polarize unannounced labarum –
snakes upon
divine coated forehead otolith,
separates the eth, & inscribed the Oromo substance.

– To inure mice
       you exalted as a protalyther,
cilia spate tail –
                 an outpouring impiety nine.

In advice ampulla lush – crooked equilibrium;
(Ye) him begins geodesy
                  and dwells outside the cello camel proverb.




Copyright © 2018 Charlie Zero the Poet


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31 thoughts on “Him Equilibrium Separates Circle of Proverb Substance

  1. Charlie,

    you say “No part of Him”
    but it was kind of exciting this morning
    holding your hand as we jogged
    for a poet you seem to have an excess of steam

    constantly trying to reinvent yourself
    flashing your popular festive imagination
    your inner child is screaming for attention
    I must say that sometimes you do naughty things
    and your readers give you nothing but sugar
    the “otherness” of your words
    and yet, readers want to kiss the dry lips of your dead words

    I see your readers floating on melting ice cubes
    trying to make meaning out of your language
    (trying to recontextualize meanings)
    if you are pointing to the future
    please be responsible
    you are the designated driver

    1. Michael,

      You are the “part of him”
      but it was funny when the puzzles
      started to cornea
      around the songs of bohemian.

      The Saturn rings
      hobbled famously
      to your loud urgency levitation.
      I have to tell you –
      sometimes I find your poetic enigma
      interesting in the sense of applause.

      I see ice cream concept
      has turned your language
      into metamorphosis
      piercing the future’s teeth
      and being responsible of balance.

    1. Thank you, Devika.

      When I wrote this…I pictured “Anaxagoras” holding a plastic universe at the palm of his hands
      and he observes everything of what the tiny ants conflict amongst each other.

      He smiles like a god but with a grim that’s not to obvious.

    1. 🙂 Glad you loved that stanza.

      Visual it came at me with a dream about portfolios
      building their own utopia where Anaxagoras rules as a replica of god
      and god himself is nowhere to be seen. Unless I’m mistaken – the cosmos
      did see god at a bar drinking himself away.

      Is he tired of us? Who knows. Anyway, that was my dream. Crazy huh?

  2. Dear Charlie, I am answering this in poetic form, without looking up any words. It’s in context. (I hope)

    My shrew, he had
    A hairy tale
    He built a nest from
    Old and stale, that
    Smelt of fish, and
    A nine inch nail, but
    When he slid his
    Taut strung bow
    His music fell, to

        1. Everyday is a challenge when I’m writing and always looking at my dictionary of collective words.
          I make sure that when I post, it never sounds the same, has imagery that speaks for itself, or,
          make the reader see a vision that plays with their minds.

  3. Him has lost the equilibrium inherent to earth !
    Marinated self , I see that portfolio para is loaded . I get an organic picture , but I will cipher at my will .
    Bounded masonry oratorical Anaxagoras ..
    That last para is intriguing.
    I think He is tired of his creation. Gotten out of his hands . Cosmos is gone. More like inception. Nothing stellar about where we headed.

    1. I like your interpretation especially this:

      “I think He is tired of his creation. Gotten out of his hands.”

      You’re right…I think and feel sometime he’s lost faith in us no matter how much we try.
      He probably thinks man, I should have rewired their neurons and see if things change differently or not.

  4. When I read your poetry I feel this:

    We are in a peaceful room, lotus position opposite each other. Your are thinking your poem and I can hear it in my mind, imbued with mystical incense billowing around us, and I understand you and the universe and all is at peace.

    I had to share that with you. You make me feel like I can’t do anything BUT tell you the truth of my soul

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