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  Jan 2019 Ashley Chapman
Helena
mud-
stuck in the sole-ridges.
burning sun in amber petrichor
you suddenly feel infinite
skipping, humming
(****** puddle,suicide note)
and then my body underneath you
in plasma, in blister, in blood.
never let me drown
(you keep me burning on)
i´m mud
subtly stuck in
your rubber bridges.

started singing with the kids in park
i swore i could hear you screaming
(i was)

my love, my love
your footsteps break my silence
The
Concrete
Spatial poem
Has varied shapes
Ancient kind of verse
With Traditional Shapes.
Many  vague symbolic themes.
From tapers lozenges eggs or spheres
The concrete spatial poem has varied shapes.
~~            ~~          ~~            ~~
the above is with a Dectina Refrain
ample
The years have gone by
That can keep you alive
As much as memories
Dying in the times
Of a forgotten friend
An enemy now
I can keep for life

Love can bring
People together
As well make them respect
Their differences
"Everything you can imagine is real."- Pablo Picasso
  Jan 2019 Ashley Chapman
Cné

She makes love to him with words
spilling ink of passion on paper.
She creates the sensual mood
with each stroke of her pen
splattered on the sheets.
She caresses his flesh
in every love letter.
She kisses up and down his
length in sentences and prose.
She tastes all his masculine scent
without ever speaking a word.
She bites his lip and tilts her
hips in between the lines.
She paints a picture that
makes him hard  for his
release and it only
took her mind.

Ashley Chapman Jan 2019
Unburied
tomorrow
from Christian metanarratives
the mid-winter solstice.
  
       December 21;
           the shortest day
       over the longest night.

Two lovers
               are by the Channel
                    divided
                         to different beds
                                to tongue tastes
                                        to timed beats
                                                     to unfamiliar scents
                                          as Yuletide days
                     burn twelfths to gray ash;
              their bodies
         are sea
cleaved.

Come!
cross the water
and release
with lively touch
tresses thick
and winter's dew,
unctuous upon the crag,
the timely solar orb
to stir the frozen ground
on our rocky shelves
and chopped bowels.

On 25th,
Christ's star is risen:
the king's light dispersed
   in lengthening days
   in opened flesh
   in loosening chords untied
   in sinews gnawed through
   in desire's wanting hotly flayed!

60 seconds were daily added,
to when
in the 100 Year Gallery,  
love to know,
would in solstice
ultimately lay.

For now as then,
our emboldened play
in days delayed
has been
love's lacerating torment!
In this poem the Christmas period is informed by a BBC Radio 4 programme on the mid-winter solstice. Two events are conflated, a lover's yearning to be with his absent lover and the solstice drawing out the long nights and lengthening days.
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