Intolerant feet of clay
shout out “Not Him!“
echoing, ignored

Life’s cathartic poetry
now mediates extrovert ideas
and introvert intuitions

Past’s flicker of persona masks
solicit with anima driven darker roles
remote and mysterious - not nice

Real now, not reflecting her animus
all becomes stilled and naked, to seek
that physical and spiritual soul mate

Jung’s bucket plumbs the black well
awash from hidden depths of creativity
and kindred ghost’s of spirituality

Change is loss then change - feeds
thy growth’s capacity for understanding
socket of creativity and enlightenment

Life’s tutored process of intelligence
responds elegantly to image and symbol
as a morality conducts the minds music

Babbling on to sip from the well
gains tested may then help others

Ghost glimpsed not genius or mad
spirituality and love held close**


.

That my random visit be so rewarded -  I save you favourite for times enjoyment - cornered alone in your company

Suggest or describe -
here steer deliciously on,
last taunting course change



.

Joined again one -
each powerfully aware,
tiny enormous.
Eyes scaly - wings dry spread
tasting awake hungry to feed



.

A ravaged beauty -
long threatened tired life,
riding appreciated  


Friday’s  off-road cycle ride started late with a heart-choking chill head-wind blown rain - blurring my glassed vision, so I trusted into the triple lanes of colours slicing through the Vale of Neath.   Here a builder’s ladder jumped boomeranging off it's white van - attempting to decapitate me - behind me it’s miss was announced by squealing brakes and crunching impacts,  scaring alive splattered visions of a flat-end and being posted within a near drain.     Surviving today's devilled ribbon of the dangerous windscreen imprisoned - sitting with pub bound murderous cohorts - I found off-road safe solitude’s mountain bike path East to Coelbren - joining new, a fine yet unsigned cycle route curling around Mynydd y Drum, to open views of Cwm Tawe as I pass hunting twisting through woods a single Red Kite.   Then  gravities speed, circles barriers into Ystradgynlais top - a narrow ribboned descent, hemmed by cars and paved children to the rugby fields.

Senses travelogue -
previously un-experienced,
time spins slower

Here the trails old section points to Swansea - winding lost betwixt fields, paths, trees and roads to Cwmtawe Cycleway proper, there to pedal beside and across Afon Tawe with repeated special offers of  child saddled exhaust roaring  kamikazes, bicycle maiming broken glass, proudly owned attack dogs, branch hung ball-sacks of excrement, visions of the lost ripped-away steel gated stops, hacked-off wooden fences and never-there deceitful dreams of red doggy bins all disguised what passed for hidden beauty, which he called lovely ugly.    Backing-into Pontardawe to crawl away below the dark bridge, past a single inviting  pub - I accompany the Tawe and it's twin a decrepit polished canal through ***** alleys - until our hero stutters, gapes then tunnels under great noisious noxious ribbons of hurtling tired....

Pressured paced life -
impossible  commitments,
Living organic**

.

Eye lashes flicker
a shared urgent interest
parting - dancing smile

My first inspiration was ***, passionate life squeezing screaming ***, the thumping wall musicality of ***, exhaustingly inventive sweaty and wet.

I wanted to make it a senryu but for duality the female characterisation demanded two more lines each extending to seven syllables.  

Arousing images captured her moaning splashing loneliness in unusual collocation.

I was first excited by the placement of a hovering extended enjambement to give life to my final line, whilst also considering the satisfaction in using noisy mouthed rhythms.  

I believe I easily hid the wet aroused context with a watery semantic field, that suggested she would choke and drown.

So in my last line I had ‘pleasures’ as a cutting keriji to make clear the dominating ****** context, having previously used a preposition and determiner to maintain duality!


Exhausted shivers
in windowed naked currents
unfolding sinking
then surfing vital wavelets
drowning screams - pleasures wet bite


.

Hi, below I copy a humorous hiabun, which I shared as an exercise to mentor enquiring and inspired poets to learn, so they might adopt and try different techniques and then give critique together with awesome comments... Yes, I used the words ***, ****** and **** for context the rest was left to an individual imagination as in good poetry!

It included reflective commentary encompasses innocent classification terminology used in the critique, reading, examining, appreciating, understanding and writing of poetry for example: POETIC DEVICES (enjambement, duality, keriji, images, collocation, semantic, oxymoron, repetition, listing etc.), STORY (personification, characterisation, subject, context, voice etc.), IMAGERY (synaesthesia), STRUCTURE ( lineation, breaks, syntactic etc.), SOUNDS (syllables, rhyme, alliteration, pace, musicality, phrasing, beat, assonance, onomatopoeia, mouthed rhythms, patterned) and WORDS (preposition, determiner, verbs, adverbs, lexical, nouns, adjectives) used by poets, critics and academics...

And here it is :

****** tongue-in-cheek haibun - a reflective commentary on writing a popular tanka

Eye lashes flicker
a shared urgent interest
parting - dancing smile


My first inspiration was ***, passionate life squeezing screaming ***, the thumping wall musicality of ***, exhaustingly inventive sweaty and wet.

I wanted to make it a senryu but for duality the female characterisation demanded two more lines each extending to seven syllables.  

Arousing images captured her moaning splashing loneliness in unusual collocation.

I was first excited by the placement of a hovering extended enjambement to give life to my final line, whilst also considering the satisfaction in using noisy mouthed rhythms.  

I believe I easily hid the wet aroused context with a watery semantic field, that suggested she would choke and drown.

So in my last line I had ‘pleasures’ as a cutting keriji to make clear the dominating ****** context, having previously used a preposition and determiner to maintain duality!


Exhausted shivers
in windowed naked currents
unfolding sinking
then surfing vital wavelets
drowning screams - pleasures wet bite

******* -
thoughts sought, taught and wrought,
aggressive games.
Fighting clubbing sick,
Afghanistan camouflage.


.

Vipers barrelling -
high vaporous carcases,
farting emissions
Biospheres radiator streaks,
dooms rushing emissaries


.

The play is written to be staged in a pub or a large cave like yurt in Cardiff.  Its action and dialogue provides characterisation, with sound and lighting being used to establish context.  The setting a darkened pub corner that is  modelled on The Bunch of Grapes in Pontypridd.   There are only 6 characters, five speak in haiku-ed verse with the exception of the Drunk who acts as my 'Greek Chorus'.

- Hand-in-hand she enters to **** her thumb in a corner

- Chocolate ice cream soda demanded from Daddy

- Joking banter ceased slowly as the regulars all begin to quaff their brown pints

“Balll uut eass swept -
Chimrrrrr, Chiirriica,
war is never won”

- Church quiet, the village pub listened lips clamped tears swelling

“ ***** cut swapped with eyes -
Chimerica, Chimerica,
war is never won”

- The cornered hero of two Afghanistan tours is seen regressing into childhood*

The set darkens slowly then after 30 seconds a spotlit conversation in lines and stanzas begins.

Haiku and tanka that inspired the coming play include:

******* -
thoughts sought, taught and wrought,
testosterones
Fighting aggressive games,
Afghanistan camouflage


Globalism and War -
cloned greedy conspiracy,
that third tower
Titled selfish-self-grandiose,
deliver warring terror


Springs cut Irises -
dripping vital red not purple,
far from my window*

.

Globalism and War -
cloned greedy conspiracy,
that third tower
Titled selfish-self-grandiose,
deliver warring terror



.

Tattoo-ed taboo-ed  gifts
decade old protective health warnings!

Different, no one else
life moulding - and moulded
wildly festive no longer?

Sometimes called nice, **** nice
drifting, a breeze of my own
walking wary with acceptance

Yet more hurt expected

The electronic world beckons
I lose myself in words
becoming just a little poetic

Hibernating - asked to play a role
to be tossed in a maelstrom
do I  smile and risk it

Inside drunken reputation, you find me
surprisingly centred, sober and yours
you trust and love

The *** is great - as are you!



.

Monday my legs belonged to someone else,
Tuesday my fingered thoughts found The Pub.

Here I think to rest around the clock till 2012,
inspired my elbow slips off the bar.

Kisses and hugs are exchanged x

Good night


.

The Nile Delta
Dark, Irish Gwendoline found the gown
so pleasingly exotic
Fred’s pigeons
My ***
Me stout in paint.

Tomorrow
Gwen lolling wonderfully naked
The ***,  tall - enormous
Sitting, Fred’s proud hound
Ancient Greece, with
no ******* pigeons


.

Jewelled pomegranate
rich in sparkling seed

A kiss for each
we sing

I serve you
the fig
open


Drip -
ping


Honey


.

Yet to be savoured
the hot vessel gifting shape
each layer to float aloof
formed by lift and separation


Finger high a simple layer cooks within
chopped, olive oiled, salt and peppered - but not aloof
above moons torn asunder are rendered invisible
by the bottom fed surge


Peppers roasted then rested aloft
A second fat yellow flow born of Elan Valley found eggs
milk and olive oil to lap, crest and paint over toasted colours
rising to crust shy cratered fractions


Atop rounded shapes of mushroom and tomato resting sliced
drowning under a richer fatter frothy yellow falling flow


Hot voids bubble and rise
cooked through, risen and browning


Behold plated warm autumn colours
banded in daffodil gold

.

Eye lashes flicker
a shared urgent interest
parting - dancing smile


.

Tacked tin sheets
promoting brand names

Real local grown food
little meat eaten
our elders thin, bony and fit

Yet birthed another foolish generation
seeded by World Wars
planted by Lend Lease
fuelled by aged forests
we farm, feed, cleave and eat

Greed walks besides naive naivety
slaughtered sheep full of cancer
processing industrial carcase-ed meals
shopaholics fat consumerism
a speeding, partying, dancing waste of ills

Lawyer-ed  politicians chain us
whilst stymied party politics deafen us
Money-ed propaganda’s herd us

Local economies destroyed to feed
National ..European ..Pan European ..Pan Asian ..World Bank ...
Prime Minister ..President ..Minister ..Senator ..Consultant
Globalisation’s plague of selfish-self-grandiose labels

A generation’s survivors
will despair
as the Ganges runs dry
then die with their children’s children
in an armed-hungry-thirsty tide

.

Walking fencéd line
emotions blow around you
clouds crowd empty blue


.

Exhausted shivers
in windowed naked currents
unfolding sinking
then surfing vital wavelets
drowning screams - pleasures wet bite


.

Season’s colours blur
in ageing contemplation
chilling warm breezes


.

I did not know her then
nor do I now
but in between, I did

She swam for Barbados
fluid young islander
of affluent Germanic descent

Adrift, cultures island sought
she surfaces, bobbing
in the Red Dragon’s wake

House on the Bay,
overflowing camper van, brim
full of friends and fun

Over the Bridge
splashing loneliness, diving
into my bath and bed

Floating alone
undercurrents scratch, tides
sandy icing of memories

Locked lapping Bay days
drag
piloting others fun

sea blue horizons
debentures sold, goodbyes told
surf Ahoy

She jumps far flung
fun soaked, to sail
the Bay of Islands

.