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Ottar Mar 2015
I will not drop my drapes it is dark outside,
TV will wait, for
body weight is all I, or any of us, ever have to move,
whether one wins or lose your ...groove,
the next twenty minutes, too late tonight,
I will run on the spot
I will pushup, I will run on the spot again,
I will pull back
No...no heart attack
I will run, once one the more, on the spot, you getting bored?
I will do a windmill slide, while staying in the house,
I will run with my knees one at a time to my chest,
I will do a single Leg Hip Raise a whole bunch of times
I will have my legs become like pistons,
******* off the the neighbour downstairs,
Then reversing the urge, I mean Lunge, I will kick my toes to my hands
Then run some more, maybe my neighbour will be pounding on my door
Take a break for as many seconds as I want to grow old (ninety is nice)
Then repeat and hope that supper,
does not want a curtain call
On a Lark
Ottar Mar 2015
was part man part sky

the sky had fallen
chunks as large as
cars and red and black

pain ate at the voice, the
chords that made sound
all fell flat and silent

the fall was stopped by ground
startled eyes open
to look around
and dark-
ness swal-
lowed me like the ocean
does to the drowned


your hands held me and rolled me over
to see if breath was still in me,
and with it said your name

and the chill that
overcame me
was from the
cold side
of the
pillow
eyes opened on my, half empty bed
Ottar Mar 2015
scattered boxes, empty halls,
empty voices call, scattered socks

Mismatches all,

Need to, want to
Fill this heart with joy,
Not bubble gum cot-
ton candy ploy,

A hunger like ivy needs a trellis
just to grow, up toward where that,
strange ball of y and o is amber heat

Plant to the Sun "let's meet"

ah, but this roller coaster has
gone off the rails and pitched all
people in skins, that hide their
emotions behind a scream,

pitched them, forked them good,
draining every drop of human kind-
ness, masking it with superficial
paint,

so paint those empty halls,
with all the upset and subsets
making sure you stir first,
for even after painting,
a coat of that paint, or two
"to warm up a cold space"


you still may be left with empty boxes,
and unmatched socks, and a painting
project with no end, as you will paint
until the paint is gone from the bottom-
less bucket, and life time supply of brushes

which as you
paint it is the
echo you hear
in the empty halls
from the empty boxes
forgetting to stuff
a scattered sock
after shredding,
in either ear.
y=yellow
o=orange
Ottar Mar 2015
Run a hand along the arc and wooden edge and a splinter
leaves the grain
sharp, is the pain
marked by a drop of blood.

Pedalling fast two feet, two circular wheels
no hands, straight faced delivery,
no guts, no glory,  youth and temerity,
gravel bits where rubber meets the road.

Trembling hand, no two, follow softly,
the rolling of the satin surface, accepting,
pressing for more, hands directing hands
where to press in to the curve, yearning
becomes burning, so much to this learning
                                                        ­     curves.
Ottar Mar 2015
the suns rays stray
bent in an array
no diffusing the display

few shy away from ultraviolet play

skin tones grow red,
hair lighter on the head,
start and finish colours bled,

the corpse moves again instead

The distance from point to point,
the distance from oil to anoint
the distance from toking that first joint,
  
end result was to be broken legs, if the male parent I did disappoint,

Think can become will, with stones of little steps,
A person of another country, is it possible to annex,
Dreamer, truth, no track record of success, the convex

Reflection of the sun, disperses all light
Leaves the fool in the dark
Pound sand,
tasting salty tears
no anger here, for tonight the son ... has faded
Ottar Mar 2015
Shivering against the cold
Fresh hair cut and she is old-
er
Wire fox terrier off white

plays hard and treats her toys light-
ly
curly lamb to sleek slim cut
demands attention, no if, and or, but

"Pretty me pretty me pet me keep me warm"
She is more than just a pretty face, not a farm-
dog
Curled up close against my leg to ward off the cool chill tonight

She is a companion dog and all her challenges are now my delight.
Tikka is a wire fox terrier, heart like a dragon, as on our morning walks she is capable of draggin' my *** around our walking route.
She is 13 and has been through much we have only owned her nine of those years, we have become close friends and taught each lessons about life, and helped each other through the ones that stopped us momentarily in our tracks, this is unedited, even though she is a purebred and a rescue, she is very rough around the edges and is still learning and I am learning how to teach her.
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