in the polyester tube, of
the lava bursting crevices,
resting in their whale submarines,
they drink through the chalice of the skulls,
(the plastic gone defunct, and the wine dried up),
sip the cold blood of the traitors, who were
insane to stand against the in-administration,
being held by the powerful, godly goons,
(all hail before Mistress Graghaaa…),
and as they are holding an orgy
of their artificial dentures,
the navigation system rattles for,
there is some water found,
(or just remnants of what was O3),
their pierced eyebrows narrow,
and their silted lips sneer,
and they utter, in their gargled voice,
and they shriek, in their embracing dance,
stomachs flapping against each other,
to the blaring music of Rack: the Nipper,
exasperated, the whole earth shakes and
sighs trembling, and breathes its last
This is my first and a feeble try of Futurist Poetry.
Futurist poetry is characterized by unexpected combinations of images and by its hyper-concision (in both economy of speech and actual length).
Futurist literature primarily focuses on seven aspects: intuition, analogy, irony, abolition of syntax, metrical reform, onomatopoeia, and essential/synthetic lyricism.
I tried incorporating some of these elements. Now, you are the judge. And if anyone is interested in reading about an unusual ghost in spirit of the Halloween, you can read a poem, I wrote, a few months back- Chudail: Creature of the Dark Hours.
I am submitting the link to dVerse Meeting the Bar. Also, it would be my entry for 1 November for NaBloPoMo.