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betterdays Nov 2014
the days subsides,
with adoring colour
and the racous choral,
of retiring lorikeets.

we sit upon the deck,
cold bevvies in hand
and watch the master
painter at work,

over on the mountain range
the clouds gather.
ben, laconically states,

"storm tonight"

and yes that smell,
so wonderful,
sits heavy in the twilight air.

petrichor, heavy on the eucalypt, ****** beer,
and warm tar....
the smells of a stormy,summer afternoon.
Dear Jan 2013
I walk.
My temple roots drag behind me.
Through wet Earth
They trail.
On them,
My thought song.
Major lifts and minor falls.
It follows along.

Singing to the golden Sun
And the blue moon rainbow
Bowing to the light behind it.
Never allowing it's night gift to hide it.

Spirit wind you blow
Ruffling my thought song's notes.
They rush in front of me

WHIRLING RACOUS LAUGHTER.
My temple roots are never-ending,
Now I chase after.

Overall, existence calls for
Intrusive music laughter.

In truth see,
WE ARE LIVE SYMPHONIC SILENCE
ALWAYS MORE AND EVER AFTER.

To die is no disaster.
polarisspark Jun 2018
Vague,strange and confusing.
You are the unparalleled  spirit of
The unborn crystal child.

Mesmeric as the soft drizzle of
Rain against the lilies,you are the coffee
Stain on pages of poetry.

A hot lacerating choking sensation
That completely engulfed your heart
As a lump of sobs you refused to loose.
In a paradise filled with nothing but  
Unrecoverable things.

It was astounding how you still look up
For the divine rebirth of the redolent blurred  fake memories.
With all these pack of desperation to find something
Made you smile , something claimed your rapaging soul.


When the sunset put his hat on with a half dozen stars were kissing the sky you soothed by the jingles of heaven's grief alluring lullaby.
Echoes of lyre's melodies brought the insomnia's starry vision of
Your elusory dream , those who barely wish for a drip of sweet hope back to sleep .
Receiving the thunderous quietness that shattered your tranquility.

"WAKE UP !" said the universe

It was there again...
Yes, a greedy hunger for the unknown pumping into your veins
Hither and thither had a sinlessness white,ravishing beauty and
unbearable lightness.

Unfortunately, for you it was just a suffocating shade of stagnation.
It was just you there as a reflection on the adornment unholy mirror.
You felt that one irresistible desire to observe a sad musing gaze filled the sharp abyss in your eyes.

Something calling you!

What incarcerated there was just a pure perfection
craved the vitality disturbance and the chaotic imperfection.
A glimpse of storm waited for its rage long enough with a fire's fading spark
Fighted to find anything burned for it.
But,Nothing was burning around , nothing just the nothingness.


A terrifying chill run through those unawakened emotions like a screaming
siren dragged those sloths feet into the hiding game .wondering if there
was any passing miracle could hold you before you catch up by the nonentity
As a comforting usurpation hard to capture , a missing destiny wandered out of
Your uncompleted written dairy. Eagerness swallow all of your sanity.

"when the restlessness keeps you yearning like a victim to thinking
While the lilac sky shed its tears watering all these pale tiny cherry
Flowers standing along the hill of immortality , there you will find an entity,
Who inflamed by obsession , the desire for addiction emitted as an
Anesthetic fragrant aching your lungs with uncontrolable breathing
Dive in the lovely warmth , just a stare will made you succumb and tumple down with
shivering knees . Now you could say
"good bye" to safe and souund

This is the den of passion.....

Let it tampr the fear inside your mind, playing with your
Sleepy creativity.
You had possessed ,he put a fever inside of you ,tearing up thought's monotony ,drown you with wave of curiousty till you feel these silkin butterflies
Fluttering in your chest .Bones ache , crazy heart's beats with huge
Smile dancing on your mouth , don't resist it ,welcome that unique
Pother ,racous and loudly deafening your surrounding.
Let him devours the angelic purity sulling you with sin's thrill
Enchanted by love's delirium.
Be a passion's lover
Mateuš Conrad Mar 2020
one of my cats - bonsai tigers is such a recluse -
for the 24h in a day she could spend 28h sleeping,
and not be seen apart from taking
a princess dump and eating like a gargoyle...

my room always fascinated her -
i guess she like the smell of books -
and the chair - for the past few days:
her "modus operandi" for whatever else
happens in the day...

i turn on the computer... start typing...
there she is, geared up, agitated -
doing her little pagan prayer: standing on
the hind legs - outstretching her front legs
and paws - and then moving them in an amen
clasp up and down -

i once overheard "someone" instructing her...
the voice wasn't human -
the words weren't human...
i'm under the impression that she was told:
get him away from typing...
as if now she wants all the attention...

one of the last stumps of the old dwarfs is almost
out of the ground...
but this one is a beast -
           it grew into a heap of concrete where
the old fence posts were...
you can't dig this sort of roots' head up
with a tiny shovel - a tiny one handed gardening
fork... a hand-saw... a blunt axe...
a hammer: when needing to hammer the axe
in...
              one of the roots took forever...
tomorrow i'll take out the guns of navarone...
a hammer drill and an electric saw...
i'll turn these concrete blob into dust
and chew into the roots with electric eels...

then the waiting process -
i will have to burn the soil...
        either with vineger or salt or i don't know...
i'll get some proper gardening chemical
that will treat old roots like weeds...
until the wood becomes brittle and...
a future source of nourishment for new
growth...
   and the dwarf apple trees grew...
while bonsai tigers cackled-esque at the birds...
eyes growing tired into a murmur of
itchy blinking...

took a coffee break and... thought apps...
and technology...
   not much thinking in all honesty...
at 34 i should be somewhere in this field...
working on some minor detail...

they can have ****** recognition technology...
but they don't have an app
that allows you take a photograph of a flower
to subsequently let you know the name of it...
they have an app that listens to a song
on the radio... and hey presto!
you have the name of the song...
          but there's no app that has a honing
microphone... after all: a camera has a zoom...
why isn't there a honing microphone?
there's no app to record a bird song...
to subsequently: hey google: listen to this...
what bird is that?

well... good to know that i still have
some interest in that... give him 3 minutes
and you're listening to spy cables
from a mr. starling...

            it's not even beautiful as vivaldi
would make it appear in the imitation game...
it's a binge on mathematics... or the thought
that comes with it...

       how the old tongue came about,
as revised to latin standards by methodius
and cyril... i too met a greek once...
from Thessalonica... in Warsaw...
       astounded as to why my english was
so good...
                then again, one has to wonder
why the czechs did not succumb...
"succumb"... nor we their neighbours...
to...

how Ⰰ became A... was it to become T?
well... not if Ⱅ (T) was to be... W?
none of these letters could be "simplified"...
with the exceptions of 'b': Ⰱ that became Б...
'm': Ⰿ that became M
           'p': Ⱂ that became "p": π
       but even the glagolitic entry i'm reading...
Ⱋ: is supposedly symplified by щ...
   i'm not buying that...
                  i could be wrong that...
    Ⱎ was and that ш is... a letter intact...
                 or that Ⱇ was and that ф is...
and that it wasn't the greek φ...
well... ш + ц = щ - šarość + č = ščerość
                   (greyness + ch-                       +
                                             -atter ≠ honesty)
yet how many words can begin with щ / šč-?
quiet a few... ščekać! to bark!
                                    look... i too have my:
tail: bąk - bumblebee...
          or perhaps how Ⰶ became ж...
or }I{ / >I<                                   Ż / RZ / Ž    
if you have a caron...
                        and know why horseradish
goes well with beetroots for a salt "puree" side
dish...
              a problem from the start of day
rubric!

     infinity                           |           nothingness
noun                                                    noun
infinite                                              nothing
adjective                                           pronoun
          ∞                                                    0?
                                                         or   √-1       i
     ~                                                 last time i heard
         ÷                                               0 = negation
                                                        so much for Kant
                                                   and subsequently
                                                         so much for ¬
                                                               likewise...  
        ∃                                                         ∄                                                    

and this toiling with the grammar...
             last time i heard these terms:
cis-                          trans-
         the conversation was central to
chirality of chemical compounds...
well... cis-trans isomers: would i have dreamed
of chemistry being so popular among
grammatical anarchists?
                                          no... it's not about
chirality...

once upon a time a language so simple:
so brittle - so accessible -
            i would strain myself on the definition:
it better rhyme...
then came the drastic oops...
           even if it rhymes...
so what it rhymes... if it does not hold ground
for lyricism to take root!

      who is to keep hold of this brute this
language gott: gut: this alles gute?
               tweak that with a sly umlaut over
a yo-yew-you? yarl!
                 who else sings?
                    the three witches: thane...
of glamis - cawdor...
                                    borrowed time from the graeae...
or at least the tongue...
the eye-shared went missing when
nine cyclopses jumped into the couldron...
the tenth: offside or the racous...
                             perhaps even: nobody...        

since why would i come with all these gifts?
what if i took your two heads away...
what ιf: ȷust lιke that! eh?
                              where are your: "dιacrιtιcal"
markers... ιn a language wιth no orthography!
there's only... the straιtȷacket of metaphysιcs
beιng exhausted: yet agaιn!

at least between a ȷ and a j there's a raa'
and a zaayn involved... please don't mention laam...
( ر ) and (ز ) respectively...
                            ( ل )...
                                          must we always learn
about the romans?
                         mr. starling sang came noon...
while i was drinking my coffee...
no app for the recognition of flowers...
plenty of ****** recognition technology in place...
no app for the recognition of bird songs...
plenty of songs archived and a honing
microphone for the telephone to pick up on
and recognise...

my song would have been much simpler...

/
meie, din liehter schin
und diu kleinen vogelin
bringent vrouden vollen schrin
daz si willekommen sin!
ich bin an den vrouden min
mit der werlde kranc
alle tage ist min klage
von der ich daz beste sage
und ir holdez herze trage
daz ich der niht wohl behaage
von den schulden ich verzage
daz mir nie gelanc
also noch genuogen an ir
dienest ist gelungen
die nach guoter wibe lone
höveschlichen rungen
nü han ich beidiu umbe
sust gedienetunde gesungen

                                                    /

as i recall... i am supposed to have a date
with a medieval germany...
a romantic germany...
     perhaps even a romance of europe
in general...
           solely on a lingua primo basis...
                history... after the mass graves
at ypres...
                           even a *** would agree
with... there's a romance
and all that was shumann and was...
              how or why the prussian became
in charge of the german people...
the same prussians...
the same baltic prussians...
the same baltic prussians that
the teutonic knights of bavaria etc.
waged a crusade against!

                      even in england certain histories
of this continent are off limits...
so much for having learned
of edward the confessor's existence...
or the medieval genius that was
philip II augustus... the capetian...
                           so much: and thus mr. starling
sang for me...
midnight came and i started looking for
my shadow to take to bed -
steal him i will / had to from
            the harem of the candlelight.

— The End —