Erewhile,
Ad Absurdum
tickled the vampires’
anorexic mint.
Tzara
on the other hand –
roasted his MP3 soul,
and ripped apart the convulsing scripts.
Dear eau de Nil,
the Nibelung
transparent its
netiquette knock.
Your overflowed excuse
cholesterols the imitating
gavotte bone.
Malaria squirts from cottage shins –
pleasing afreet as their pleading sideways.
Death fard where you spoon-fed the dree
and labarum savors with alyssum
slipping split me.
Mushyheaded ariose
fell into the apes’ papier-mâché ear.
Palpitation chitterlings
agitate my vapor –
exscind laughter, moribund the thermometer drink.
Good news folks…
earth plans to overdose soon. When?
Silly humans – the countdown has already started
and it begins with you.
Copyright © 2018 Charlie Zero the Poet
All rights Reserved.
No part of Palpitation Apes as Thermometer Vampires Drink from their Bone Scripts – may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Charlie Zero the Poet and his poetry works with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
The countdown has definitely started a while ago…
Yes, it has…but to others who are blinded by the truth – it hasn’t for them so the clock is ticking. 🙂
It seems unbelievable how people in general can be so blind…
It starts when you are born
True. Other’s however, see the opposite.
They are blinded by reality…the information they know is its own system of which they we’re brought up and taught at school.
The countdown on humans is a jolt … but I see it!
Thank you, Frank.
I’m glad you see the realism of this. I had to be silly about the ending and be far with its imagery of bonkers!
When I read your poetry, I am always reminded of french Dada…Love reading it.
This would be along the lines of Dada but not so much French.
David Lynch’s The Alphabet 1968
I do very much appreciate French Dada they are my favorite writers of all time. 🙂
Much to cogitate upon. Brilliant work Charlie, you’re constantly raising the bar
Thank you, my friend.
I push boundaries because my heart produces flowers.
I push boundaries because my imagination has nothing to lose. 🙂
And we all benefit 🍻
🙂
Looks like you are into your flow Charlie..
Of course. I’ve had many interesting dreams that which I turn them into creative world of their own.
My head is on fire. hahahaha!!!
Keep your head fuelled Charlie.. We need more imagination in this world.. Instead of zombies. 😉
I am tripping on this lol got me high , you funny bone Charlie , however did you dream up this tickling piece😅😆lmao
hahahaha!!! I knew this would trip you out. LOL!!!!
Yes, I did dream all this poetic observation. It was madness in my skull. Tons of clues and answers leading up to this very moment of writing. 🙂
😊😎
I understood the last verse in the first read. Haha I’m getting better at this
You certainly are getting better at understanding my world of pure bonkers and wild theories. hahahaha!!!
Last stanza was perfect. Great finale.
Help me Le Lonely Author, to decode Charlie’s gem.
Well, the wonderful thing about art/poetry is it is always up for interpretation. Thus, I can only speak for what it meant for me. In this last stanza, which I mentioned, mankind is and has been falling into an abyss (overdose) of which it will not return (the countdown has begun). His final warning; that it is up to each and everyone of us to do our part to avoid calamity.
Now, that is how I viewed the finale. The true intended interpretation can
only be revealed by the genius who penned this – Charlie.
I was messing with you. You are so sweet, you really took the time to do this.
As much as I like to clown around, I do take the responsibility of reading my friend’s work seriously.
Charlie, please do not kind my silly banter. You both are lovely.
Well, I can’t speak for Charlie, but my loveliness comes from my shampoo. I use LO’real, because I’m worth it.
Hahaha.
And Charlie, there’s a typo in my previous comment. It should have been mind but you are a smart guy, you have figured it out. Just like lovely Andrew who is so worth the L’Oréal shampoo he uses. Hahaha.
Not to worry, Nandita. I knew what you meant. 🙂 I’ve never tried L’Oreal. I know it leaves the hair feeling smooth and shiny. Is it true?
hahahaha!!! I love this…LOL!!!!!
I am full of smiles today. You two are amazing and I love you both. 🙂
You my friend, have nailed this interpretation of my writing so well put.
My apologies if I won’t reveal the true meaning…I like to leave it up for the reader to feel and give their own sense of what it all means. In other words, poetry speaks for itself, like art speaks for itself. 🙂
I love you. Why would you put me on the spot like that? lol
Hey I replied to this, but it got posted as a fresh comment. Scroll down. Lol.
I read it…and I’m happy you guys are having a conversation. 🙂
Thank you, my friend. 🙂
I was being sarcastic with the ending in the hopes of it translating well with how the reader understands the poem as a whole. 🙂
I though you did it successfully
I’m sorry, Andrew. Love you too.
🙂
These keep getting better and better – love the rhythms and sounds when read aloud, and the mind echoes . . .
Thank you, Jan. So glad you read through this as a rhythmical sounds of colorful dream structures.
My mind always echoes when my dreams send me message like this. 🙂
🙂 We’ll have to talk dreams sometime – I’m so glad to know you heed yours. Robert Graves, in his book The White Goddess, has written eloquently about the kind of muse/inspiration that poets tap into (the good ones – you certainly do. You should have a look at the book if you’re not familiar with it – I think it’s brilliant. 🙂
The rythm here was incredible and very visual,well at least for me🤩
Visuals in poetry and stories is what I strive to push and make my readers think in such a world like no other.
Hear it. Hear it. Hear it. We heat it, cool it, crush it and cook it on the top of our stove.
Thous dost not disappoint, my friend.
I like your song rhythm. A good top of delicious food is something to savor and eat for such imagination.
I’m happy you enjoyed this wild dream of mine and what I achieved to write this poem and the other.
There’s plenty of more to come…trust me.
Charlie,
Listen Baby Boy, if you want to talk Palpitation Apes
I’ll talk Palpitation Apes
I have a yard full of them
Unlike mountain apes, these buggers like to swim
Religious Palpitation Apes that swim in a stream of blood
Religious Blood, strong stuff from the Old Testament
The males swim in the male river
The females swim in the female river
The rivers caress one another but never mingle
It is all about the rhythm of the sun
Snap your fingers, Charlie
Start talking Palpitation Apes
Talk to me about hearts and souls
The grinning mockery of romance and love
The solstice and the equinox of a billion adult films
Brothers and sisters bleeding at the roots
Supplying the flow of the rivers, the Blood of Life
(+) We are the fruit of The Tree of Life
(+) We are Palpitation Apes
I think I can accept calamity if that’s indeed our current trajectory- as unfortunate as it is. What we call reality- it’s all an illusion. Pull up a chair and enjoy the show 🍿
some smooth sooth, sayer!