Hi, I'm your diaphragm
Without me giving you a hand
You couldn't let out sobs
Nothing would come
Out of your gob
You couldn't even laugh
Let alone barf
Raise your arm?
Take a breath?
Enter samadhi's black death?
Get
Outta here!
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Author:
Mutley Ravishes (
Offline) - Published: February 15th, 2025 00:23
- Comment from author about the poem: gob = mouth barf = vomit
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
Offline)
Comments4
I have such a horror of upchucking that I attempt to avoid it at virtually all costs, and you must be so, so... what? And force my indulgence of your clever lines to a sharp halt, eh? Excellently rendered with superb imagery and an unappetizing poignancy haunting it. Thank you for sharing.
Well, I guess when we've consumed something poisonous then barfing is heavenly?!
Thanks for dropping by.
Honestly, even food poisoning forcing the unavoidable I have attempted to avoid, but the last case of such, of course there was no help for it and I had to fumigate my studio. Satisfied?!
Once poison soaks in, it is extremally hard to rid off, enjoyed the read
For sure. It might take lifetimes!
We often neglect and forget to be grateful for small things that really aren't that small. A most interesting write
I got the idea from a book by Katsuki Sekida. He pointed out that you can't play a piece of music by simply staring at the score! And then there's the effect the abdominal region has on states of mind (especially in meditation).
Wow, in old English they called them the bowels. I am guessing they kind of mean similar things. Speaking and singing are quite awesome activities with proper use of the diaphragm 🙏🏻🕊
For sure. Along with all kinds of sports/movement etc.
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