Plato's Play-Doh

Play-Doh for the Mind

Tag: poem

Mr. Halley

Mr. Halley Pic

Edmond Halley was an English astronomer, geophysicist, mathematician, and meteorologist recognized for computing the orbit of Halley’s Comet, which later took his name. In 1692, he proposed a theory that the Earth was hollow. This poem is written from the view of Satan, who resides inside the earth.

 

Mr. Halley

Year 1692 is when that blasphemous buffoon

Revealed the dwellings of man’s mind

A song of sorrow tune

 

In hollow earth his thoughts aren’t welcome

I put forth fire on my everlasting

Souls that were in tombs

 

He shall not last in man’s own head

For their psyches reside with me

And slumber in my bed

 

My home, he thought, is bright as day

He knew not it is the flames

Feeding on likes of him for play

 

The expanding air of my own singed lives

Releases to the world above

Making for the glacial lights

 

Dare not his ideas flow

Through the river of the blood

Ensuing to the float to those unbeknownst

 

Down! Down! I’ll come to pluck him from the sky

21 grams smothered in a fire

So hot the blaze will cry

 

Soon, not enough, he will accompany me

Into my dear bed

Filled with minds – temper free

 

Hesitance not taken to his own wit’s dying out

It is his time for him to be tucked in

No more spews from his shriveled spout

 

Invincible in future times of the past and present

I shall remain the captor of all thoughts

Mr. Halley, you will learn your lesson

 

Copyright ©2014 Russell Lehmann

The Premature Burial

The Premature Burial Pic

 

He was a man of mighty words

He was loved throughout the town!

He preached to the needy herds

When in their sorrows they drowned

 

He was a man of many years

But his soul was so young!

Yet he could not help but fear

That his time here on earth was about done

 

He was a man in fast decline

His physical essence was about gone!

The crowds waited in line

To declare their “so longs”

 

He was a man now passed on

For his body was so cold!

Yet his soul stayed strong

And never left its mold

 

He was a man now entombed

For the grief was so strong!

There was a feeling of disquietude

As he was lowered under the lawn

 

He was a man who was now resting

In such a pleasant peace!

The people put forth their blessings

To the disappointment of his soul, for it was not yet deceased!

 

He was a man all alone

Now all alone in the ground!

Yet unfeasibly he uttered a moan

While his eyes looked around

 

He was a man now alive

Brought back from the dead!

Hi soul had survived

Helping to keep his heart fresh

 

He was a man stricken with luck

Yet in unison with misfortune!

For he was now forever stuck

In a box of retention!

 

He was a man now hoping to be saved

But he had to come to terms!

His future had fatefully been paved

For death was quickly approaching with yearn!

©Russell Lehmann 2014

Poem from the Past: Get Well

Get Well

Get Well pic

You have no friends

You have that special wish that you commend

You finally met the person of your dreams

But fuck the feeling it’s pretend

 

You were so excited; you were climbing the ladder of love

But then you fell down the rungs; you’re starting to think that there’s no one above

That watches over you; instead he watches you!

He torments you! Like a fucking flat tire your heart blew

 

You wish you could go back, back to when you were ten

Your were so popular; Yes, sir, you were the man

But that fuckin’ metal in your mouth didn’t give a damn

Blow your fucking brains out! In this life a chance you didn’t stand

 

But this is now; there’s no denying the last ten years have been pure hell

Robbed of a childhood, your heart pounded while your brain swelled

Your old friends walked the bridge over the pit where you just fell

But now I guess the time has come, to stop dwelling and get well

 

©Russell Lehmann 2014

Aokigahara

Aokigahara Pic

The dense forest lets little light in

Branches are chafed and scarred from ropes

The Sea of Trees drowns the people within

People who have lost everything; hope

 

Many who travel here will not travel home

Unless home to them is the shadow of death

Bodies hanging here, and over there lay the bones

Of those who came to draw their last breath

 

The forest of Aokigahara is destitute of brightness

For the trees do their best to block out the sun

One could say that these trees are full of shyness

Or perhaps they’re ashamed of what their branches have done

 

These woods of bereavement will continue to house

Lifeless bodies that were once filled with pride

The doomed entrants will continue to allow

This once beautiful forest to be chided and despised

 

*Aokigahara is a 14-square-mile forest that lies at the northwest base of Mount Fuji in Japan. The forest contains a number of rocky, icy caverns, a few of which are popular tourist destinations. Due to the wind-blocking density of the trees and an absence of wildlife, the forest is known for being exceptionally quiet. The forest has a historic association with demons in Japanese mythology and is a popular place for suicides.

©Russell Lehmann 2014