A brother’s love
is muscle pumping
deeply into the Sea
of a sister’s fraternal
worship
Father’s always right,
and now
brother’s never wrong
He, a bodybuilding smile
She, a builder of mirth illusions
Like cob in the northwest,
she ages with a glimmer
of healthy sheen outside,
and a withering rot inside
He grows bolder with cheers,
travel, and island sunshine,
always forcing fraternal luv
when fate draws sis to bro
Nine months, now, are gone
The water, it flows turbulent
between reluctant thighs;
a cry is heard in 8-bit tones,
a hammer raised high
Then, with simian grace,
a fluid-slicked, furry head
pops this live-action bubble
exposing platforms and ladders
The hospital becomes level 1
as DK jr. begins to climb,
leaving sister and brother
shaking violently on the floor
Pole Vaulting on the Sun 
Came to read your poem was looking forward to it but can’t see the text properly : (
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I’m sorry. It looks okay from here. Maybe try it again? What do you see? It may help me figure out what’s wrong. If I can fix it I will. Thanks for coming by; I always appreciate your visits.
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life is a video game sometimes….enjoyed reading
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Hm. Wow. Vivid imagery, a little bit afraid of this one, but in a good way, I liked it.
Do you have siblings? This poem makes me want to guess.
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Thank you. That’s a good reaction. This one is pretty strange. Pretty strange. I like the double meaning in that. I do have a sibling, an older sister. However, this was not an attempt to describe a personal relationship. It was a furthering of a new movement in writing. I don’t have a name for it yet. Working on it, though. Maybe it’s an attempt to destroy the unneeded separation between the actual and the artificial?
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I want to say that you’re doing a good job, but ‘actual’ and ‘artificial’ hold different meanings in different brains, and I do not have your brain. In my brain, however, you’re doing well.
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The actuality is what matters…
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I read this on my phone the other night, and it’s been popping around in my head ever since. It’s an interesting piece. It takes my mind in a couple of different directions makes me laugh at one point and wince at another. I do love the flow of the words themselves. I’m intrigued by your description above ^ too, I tend to feel a separation is good myself, but may be misunderstanding your meaning.
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You have a Beat-poetry style of narration, though I’m guessing, you may not be aware of it yourself. 🙂
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Hey, thank you. You mean beat-poetry as in Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, and Lawrence Ferlinghetti? I’ve read ’em, though I wasn’t trying to have a beat style. Their influence is probably all tangled up with all the other influences in my life. Beat soup.
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Strange and bold at the same time. I love this.
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Thank you. Strange and bold would be a good poem title. Or possibly a TV drama 🙂 I’m glad you liked my poem.
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vicious write…it seems a family relationship gone astray…far astray….and the consequences there of…ugh…it hits…nicely penned man
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Dude, that was.. frikkin’ brilliant!
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Thank you. How’s the Borg world these days. I need to catch up with you on your blog. Thanks for reading.
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wow…this is fantastic laden with emotion and evocative of the elemental relationships we all tread through. Loved this ~ Rose
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Thank you, Rose.
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Reminds of something Rabelais might pen. Witty, vicious, highly sardonic. Interesting thought, seeing the salvation myth in the form of eight-bit symmetry!
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Thank you for your most interesting and insightful comment.
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She, a builder of mirth illusions — what a way to say smile even though it hurts!
There are many levels here. In my reading, I see the son of the family as the favored child regardless of his actions, he is the one that is praised and the daughter, the disappointment who is trying to better her fate with a painted smile. Of course, I might be interpreting from personal experience or from history by osmosis. Either way, this is impactful, sardonic, very out-of-the-box metaphorically.
And I keep coming back to “mirth illusions” <— brill
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A family saga of sort. Intriguing read.
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Thank you, Jamie.
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And now I’m picturing Princess Peach giving birth to a mutant eight-bit half-breed gorilla. Why can’t I come up with ideas like this? This is seriously good.
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That’s the lingering image I was hoping to implant. Thanks for seeing it. And you’re the only person to mention the lovely Princess Peach. Thank you 🙂
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You’re quite welcome. We’re obviously around the same age and had similar pop culture experiences as children.
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Oh, the ties that bind. I’m glad we can turn those experiences into something useful now, like poetry 🙂
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Very, very trippy…quite enjoyed that! And thanks for sharing it out here.
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Thank you, Peter.
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“She, a builder of mirth illusions”– that’s a meal in and of itself. Love this… it’s that funny thing where it’s just a game, but there’s that underlying violence, too. Very nice. Able to take a face value OR dig for metaphor if you’re a nerdy lit geek like me. Or a Dig Dug fan, I suppose.
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Thank you, Danielle. I used to love Dig Dug, and I took about four degrees’ worth of literature classes at University (all three of them), so I’m with you on digging for metaphor. Face value is good too sometimes, but it’s even better to stick a knife into the chocolate Easter bunny and find it’s not hollow.
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