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1.7k · Mar 2015
Foreground
Mark McIntosh Mar 2015
stem of orchid jewels
hearts white. fronds dangling caressed
clouds obscure. Judas gifts wrap
kitchen. bromeliad pool &
bird chorus, cocteau twins, unwound
clock. himalayan surveyor measures
watercolour, telescopic insight
ginger of blue flowerless season
changing, renewed construction
seeds bloom, a winter pose. house of
possibilities in clear air, away from here
barbeque covered, herbs sprout flavour
zen stone feature a cat’s new bed
1.3k · Apr 2015
Glow
Mark McIntosh Apr 2015
for Katie



martini of elderflower in a dimly
lit room. 40s tune plays with feminine
harmonies lifting a room. green
tiles and floor lamps, a yellow glow.

alcoves of lounges, retro chairs
contain saturday groups on long
weekend splurges. V glasses, colourful
concoctions, buzz of the mix

in several quiet corners. chatting with
Katie, a beacon in darkness with
infectious regard for pictures and
words. talking planets and spaceships,

a fictional odyssey, silicon storm in
ridiculous glasses. rosemary’s baby, a
theme cocktail infused with thought.
film screen and text gets

the message across. early alarm means
an 8pm ending from hours of
wander and lovely therapy. parting hug
warms a deep fried heart,

plans to disco inferno at a melbourne haunt
in the midst of sydney. donna left,
everyone remembered. amy goes
back to black. records spin. i feel loved
1.3k · Mar 2015
Demolition
Mark McIntosh Mar 2015
wreckers arrive, trucks & sledgehammers & ball
on chain, tumbling brick walls
glass cacophony
crystals of sand.

demolition early, everyday ruins, debris
piles hills, constant removal.
wheels shifting loads
burial journey.

gulls fossick mountains discarded, peck at
rocks & remnants. banister
shattered, chunks of steps, rungless ladder.
a park ascends

sarcophagus past. developer opportunity
real estate soars, minion mcmansions.
corner view of water & trees,  haven of
light & ore
1.2k · May 2015
Southbank
Mark McIntosh May 2015
fronds of palms
bougainvillia drapes steel frames
taken root in silt
river depositing
minerals for strength.

fifteen years after
lost love & other chapters
tangled branches present
to a cloudless blue
all melts

across copper water
licks at mangroves
camoflauging a walkway
swept away by a record flood
new planks anchored
1.0k · Mar 2015
Astronomy
Mark McIntosh Mar 2015
planetarium drifts across the black
rotation of stars changing position

soft roar, a jet lifts
red light blinks into the distance

unseen southern cross
below the horizon at this hour of evening

cooler air of floating leaves                                                  
satellit­es drift on mapped orbits

tiny connections
govern all in this darkness

major explosion

invented & recorded with the silence of
space junk polluting frontiers

the vacuum of nothingness
                                                
plan­e gone

different land nearing
other meanings ascribed to night
                        
gods & other beings of fiction
trap & trick & bear false influence

dark again in a northern land                                            
planets emerge with their sparkling colours

full moon
ceremony of paper lanterns lifting heavenly
914 · Mar 2015
Sonata
Mark McIntosh Mar 2015
autumn comes with drooping arms
promises of stripped branches
shapes confetti & a quilt
rests on a carpet of dewdrops

bubbles melt with the dawn
drifting on currents
air carries leaves
another renewal

rains decompose browns, yellows, reds
winter greens sprout
soil fed & energised
vegetable flowers form

subtler seasons
easier sleeping, slower awakenings
leaves raked & piled
hot gone days disposed.

frost arrives in certain geographies
red replaces white
the tank is full & burners cleaned
warming gas is very close
910 · Apr 2015
Caving
Mark McIntosh Apr 2015
in the cavern
stalactites & fireflys
illuminate
now
a library of theories

chasm cacophony
their massed odour
freshly damp
hanging in wait
for the moon's cue

headlamp highlights
campers' scraps
under earth & rock
a steady descent
strange treasures
856 · May 2015
Weekday
Mark McIntosh May 2015
look harder
in the afternoon
there were
morning falls
tied lines
and now
a weary boxer
wants to punch
the air
seeking solace
in clouds
deep pools
water caressing
muscles full
of the day
as we float
on a porous
skin
841 · Oct 2015
Seasonal
Mark McIntosh Oct 2015
under a rock is the only place
that muffles the buzz
bees in a jar
the cycle disturbed
buds stall
hard pods at the end of spring
the season changes. flowers that
should have bloomed
stunted beneath new leaves
empty vessels
trees fruit well
only every few years
preserving and storing away
building colourful shelves
to keep out the chill
836 · Jan 2016
David
Mark McIntosh Jan 2016
Lazarus left a final song
of mystery and awe
turning passing into another performance
recorded and acted with panache
you will always remain
a chain of memories
formative around my neck
you taught me everything
about the magic of music
about masquerades and disappearing
into another skin
to get your message across
cracked wires
you survived addiction
I am doing my best
luckily never had the funds to sink
so low
and now I read you owned a unit in Sydney
my hometown
and I would have loved more than anything
a random encounter
on the street, in a pub
just to nervously worship
at the altar of you
815 · Apr 2015
Deluge
Mark McIntosh Apr 2015
baptism
from the clouds
washes away
channelling to the harbour

broken branches
in gutters
leaves strewn
across footpaths

wild urban obstacles
puddles stay
wet socks
umbrella struggles

a moment of teasing
blue drifts to
grey portents
time enough

to clear eaves
unblock drains
prepare for
another cleansing
Sydney has experienced our worst ongoing storms over the last three days. A category 1 cyclone. This is part of my current interest in minimal poems and trying to express a lot economically.
810 · Mar 2015
Drainage
Mark McIntosh Mar 2015
drain full of peelings
broken plunger & unwashed dishes
drops sprinkle from the sky
yesterday hail
leached peas and golfballs cracked
hitting windows
perhaps reflection
back to the hills
to find freshness somehow
crusts too old to chew the grains
birds quiet in the autumnal wash
preparing for another outing of art
therapy.
ginger, shallot, chilli & chicken
rice later
something for the blood which
pumps & beats & never stops
till words release and a
semblance of peace arrives
791 · Mar 2015
Cloud Canyon
Mark McIntosh Mar 2015
silent echo roars
a chasm of rock
valley empty of air
smoke from so many campfires
trapped & hanging
invisible nooses
loop & sway & attached to
nothing
trapped in lungs the planes of plumes
settle as velvet
drift around corners
tickling crevices, shrouding paths
trampled by history on horseback
beast seeks escape
from a misty tableau
sun at dawn & light weak from clouds
exit puzzle, guide lost a compass
veil descends to a river
the glass skin embraces
789 · Jul 2016
Stranded
Mark McIntosh Jul 2016
for a legendary 70s-80s Sydney nightclub


wearing those clothes
like we did
being there

back then
paying too much
for that shirt

those shoes
pointy & suede
buckled not laces

16 in nightclubs
being tall
an original sister

1959 sequins
sunglasses matching
there was no light

being afraid
of the men
metamorphosis

women used
those urinals
confusion reigned

in a young man
we danced
the music spoke

bartenders poured
all sorts of
concoctions

another track
began
& a floorshow

eyes wide open
miming & movements
others queued

we were hustled
inside
out come the

freaks & early on
we got it all
on studded sofas

on the dancefloor
the fresco was
roamin

we moved feet
to the rhythms
slaves

not knowing how
formative those days
were

never getting anything
but drinks
until later

legal with dollars
juiced up
better lights

victims resting
in seats people
occupied

when a visiting act
blew simpler minds
wallets

we thought that
record was good
then they played

B52s, Blondie, Numan
the floor caved in
from ska

pogo. bouncers
cleared the scene
original grace

as an ape
stomps
up a staircase

disappears into
lookalikes
then a spotlight

highlighted
the real thing
that was us
783 · Apr 2015
Canopy
Mark McIntosh Apr 2015
drops from a canopy
musical falling tears
a concrete step
saturated mat against the wall
faded stripes a catchment
rivulets gather & flow
to the ledge. underneath
plants drink, leaves dusted, roots spread
bulbs replace their powers
soon they will bloom
746 · Mar 2015
Morning Seance
Mark McIntosh Mar 2015
for Karen


raindrops spot a timber deck,
grey early morning, sunless.
twitter of birds welcome a misty awakening,
fridge hums, preserving everything.

magpie glides to rest on a line,
stark black and detailed white.
flies away to a branch unseen,
plates of evening remnants wait.

rosemary arms reach to warmth.
remembering when the light went out.
glow of blub over table in a gentle
interrogation. torture internal.

open shed in the yard’s deep corner
silhouettes of garden tools
waiting to fire, trim fresh growth
leaves of grass.

winter lost to constant storms
whatever’s there. magpie back with
accusing stare of malevolence.
clothes float as ghosts
723 · Mar 2015
Tides
Mark McIntosh Mar 2015
before the day the night retires
black tucked in by dawn's pale fingers
lifting a cover of sun
across damp sands
evaporating patterns withdraw to shore.
needle arms salute the clouds
trails of lycra ants
empty heads
from reds and whites
the week's download & lick of salt
night blanket gone
new slate to paint
scene of beacons & vessels floating
seawall haven
man on a board paddles the current
drifting a distance
in reach of shore
721 · Mar 2015
Difficult Labour
Mark McIntosh Mar 2015
the soothing scent of mowing lawn
back strain from lifting & hauling
concrete stepping blocks
storing another direction.

wakeful night of dreams crowding
saying things I forget.
labour betrays the promise of a tired body
assisting sleep

fifteen milligrams paid in full
moisture in a drought
the rain holds off a little longer
despite various warnings

ringing something sounding unlike bells
white noise turns the colour of alarm
it's all alright
the mantra some magic
the mantra some magic

chopping rocks
it only takes that
chain gang number not behind bars
blackbirds squawk amongst seeds of grass

gathered symbols or innocent bystanders
white friends fly
proud with the span of their wings
catching the flow.

trip on a stone
the smallest pebble snagging a shoe
lace caught beneath
hesitant step.

hussle to train with luggage heaving
straining the zip, can never hold back
a time to be quiet &
rearrange words

the lessons we hear tuning into
the night
wheels roll back home
some more washing up
718 · May 2015
Haiku
Mark McIntosh May 2015
a little red sip
contains the entire paddock
where the grapes were grown
710 · Apr 2015
Bondi Slice
Mark McIntosh Apr 2015
water flows & flows & splutters
through a weir & a pipe on the sand
with rampant ibis & seagulls with
chips from the hands of children
an iconic beach disappoints in the flesh
the south end where nobody covers
that much skin as there's not lots
to hide while they flaunt & smoke & blister
under sun & ice-cream melts
as the waves roll & roll
705 · Apr 2015
Fortune
Mark McIntosh Apr 2015
reading runes
game of stones
anxious
since returning
sharing rent
rarely leaving
apart from rations
full fridge
iced over
a pick chipping
softly mining
buried treasure
such facets
licked lips
a spoon chinks
another pan
697 · Jun 2016
Dystopian
Mark McIntosh Jun 2016
the new millennium a battle for scraps
lions released upon
difference, the poor, choices not those of the keepers.

a loaf of bread
tiles balanced on the heads of relations
keeping out rain

homeless, threadbare peasants huddled
soft rocks
under drone surveillance, workers

packages dropped by insidious machines
images unseen
cameras shoot too

the power of malevolence
micro bombs
Hiroshima Death Park

they visited there on a slave break
from the unseen threat
enacting punitive whims

keeping everything rare
at the headland the dam flows
into a filthy stream

outside gates of steel reinforced
minions guarding a winter palace.
inside, a committee of charlatans

votes on the next to go
for another course of degustation.
hobos cold, tired, thin

targets without crosshairs
and it's there outside
what people think they see

human robots misread a glance
some concentrated glare
only then

goose-steppers shoot
at a flinch of skin
another one down
691 · Mar 2015
Mosman Bay
Mark McIntosh Mar 2015
Swimmers under sandstone overhangs
Pink tree of flowers a sculpture
Blazing in a summer extending
Into the next season.

Concrete another blue to the horizon
Icons accumulated across the harbour
Mansion upon edifice, street after avenue
Walkers approach in droves raising dollars.

Children splash throwing soft missiles
No particular target.
At the head of the bay low tide
Reveals ***** scurrying this way and that.

Climbing hills of leadlights, bricks and money
Worlds away yet just beside
Walls in which many inhabit
Accounts of monumental difference.

Waters lap & lick at rocks
Ragged shells of oysters cracked
Joggers pound the bitumen
Lines of rare ants travelling.
Mosman Bay is an inlet of Sydney Harbour where wealthy folk Live. I was visiting!
682 · Mar 2015
Homeward
Mark McIntosh Mar 2015
overhead squawk of cockatoos
ominous warning of a flight toward freedom
yellow crests flutter in changeable weather
tableau of leached blacks.
half a white disc dissolved
brings anxious, involuntary spasms
not camouflaging venitians
floating on canals, oblivious to currents.
dreams arrive in a dead night
of wakeful & unordered surprises.
busy memories paint cartoon oils
in monochrome.
at dawn a grey horizon
not the blazing yellow orb
of Sunday awakening when possibilities were served
with fruits at breakfast.
riding tracks of the past
a quiet carriage & a mind cacophony.
in the centre potential for
an accord of calm melody
of simpler notes to play.
conductor announcing upcoming stops
unwanted concerns echo through valleys
Written in the Blue Mountains near Sydney, Australia.
673 · Jul 2016
Shadows
Mark McIntosh Jul 2016
glow from the back light
stretches shadows into dark places
a coat threatens

there's nothing there but
a line that is precise
my shoulder disappears into

the ink canvas
a possum's claws gripping
a trunk

and in the distance
the air thinner
a jet echoes across the sky

the end of a cigarette
another last puff
jonquils stand proud

their night scent
sweetens the breeze
the moon is a

dependable sliver
shining patches away
the glow from windows
669 · Apr 2015
Transit
Mark McIntosh Apr 2015
ray peeps around a corner,
playful child reflecting light through
a periscope. lashing gales, umbrellas concave,
ponds dampen scurrying workers.

morning sky was blue, everything
turned with lunch. praise replaced by
a battle back to element of gas.
curtains drape to trap comforts.

again the sun hides, astral signals
unbalance and change. Venus to star
in a celestial ballet. scorching orb
of retina burn the prop and set.

eclipses of dramatic entrances in a single
month. exit from knots and
hibernation from the troubles of others.
a bear stomps to a hollow trunk.

king tides and fishermen endangered, waters
rise hauled by lunar spectacles.
maddening navigators endanger with
skids escaping weather and wheels.

pool at the back door trapped by
leaves on a grate. level rises then cleanses
bricks as a gust clears the drain. A single
dawn ‘til she casts her spell

on a damaged inhabitant. James Cook sailed
with secret plans to record her dance.
pressure on, contingencies set, the
ninth battalion armed and twitching
660 · May 2015
Tapestry
Mark McIntosh May 2015
threads woven around others become
something more than coloureds strands
the picture emerges ever so gently
details of a face late in proceedings
the seamstress, hair severe and concentrated glare
hears a voice outside the window
and the loom paints as her nimble fingers
pull and weave from six woollen scanes
greens for some trees and then
she releases the shades and pushing her chair
proceeds to the door to welcome someone
633 · Apr 2015
Resurrection
Mark McIntosh Apr 2015
display of strut, bird-lady departed.
vacuumed in fur during mountain winters.
cocktails at five, tales of life lived.
a modern disease tolled bells.

pecks on a red door, footprints on steps,
twilight brought a royal display from
deep in bush, day after day his noble plumage
green, blue, purple eyes watchful,

a holy farewell.
under an oak at saturday’s end
he returns for an encore of lessons
from heaven. nurture, renewal,

kindness shrouded in ritual dance.
sister protector wears feathers of colour,
imprinted with love, caring whilst fading,
rot taken hold.

peacocks appear, ostentations abound,
another abyss narrowly missed.
evolutionary lessons, true colours unfurl,
she rises from ashes with radiant glow
Peacocks were thought in ancient times to represent protection (all those eye feathers) and rising after death. They were kept in regal enclosures as status symbols. A neighbour at my mountains home passed away from cancer. The following day at cocktail hour (when she and my mother would often have a drink together) a peacock appeared in the backyard. He came back each day for a week. So I visited the following weekend. The peacock came back one last time and performed the full ritual dance. These birds are not native to the Blue Mountains near Sydney. That was the last time we saw him.
626 · Mar 2015
Fishing
Mark McIntosh Mar 2015
when it hits
when the winding road leads to
a cul de sac
reverse & don’t park

later at night, wines on board
didn’t pay the extra leg charge by
the exit
child whines & grizzles for land

solid foundations covered by
mountains & waters
everthing flows down streams & creeks &
all the rivers join

heart pumps, lungs release, fins stomp
over rocky ground, pillars
hold up the whole, stop the waters
receeding, keep them

propping all up. venice in winter
canons fire, lead ***** explode
around people I love. look in the
mirror, see what stares back

a smear on the face of a guilty reflection.
pool of calm lake
narcissus new zealand. glow & frown
& pull in the fish
from holidays in the Corrimandels, New Zealand.
614 · Apr 2015
Pinot
Mark McIntosh Apr 2015
soft drops
tickle the leaves
of orchids
moon rising
in a southern sky

day is done
the night enters
she knows the code
red is poured
calm descends
606 · Apr 2015
Jigsaw
Mark McIntosh Apr 2015
panorama
cut up in shapes
connecting pieces

which bit of blue
matches another
how does a horizon spread

across a table
pictures & words
make patterns

the spire of a mountain
plain in retrospect
seemed like a face

of quiet reflection
building a picture
a hole in the sky
604 · Apr 2015
Cigarette
Mark McIntosh Apr 2015
red in the streetlight
banksia holds back
garden arch reads the seasons
braille in the night

glow of a lamp
highlights some leaves
no car for miles
can only be peace
601 · Mar 2015
Bull Market
Mark McIntosh Mar 2015
suits chugging beers
overcompensating
a man rubs his hands with a new deal
capitalist moisturiser
Jargon For Dummies
in search of some
box full of empty rooms
holding tiny humanity
pin-striped warrior factory
they're everywhere these broken moulds
******* the middlemen
fattening bottom lines
bears set free amongst steel & glass
concrete hot under summer gamma
shareholders ruling but not really reigning
600 · Jul 2016
Leaving
Mark McIntosh Jul 2016
outside the window, blowing smoke
ash falls blind
a phone signal
never before that graphic
lack of conversation
when asking to use a chord
you said no.
worried about sense. that was
never my concern. the bill was yours.

merry pranksters drove by, hurling
invisible paint bombs, superimposed
oil slicks on overhead projectors

even then nothing was even
it was all odd. ticking off drinks
your pad averaging numbers.
then you wanted to talk again
telling you I was leaving as
nothing about that was mine.
there was no gold in that pan
nothing resembling dust
just the echo of boots
596 · May 2015
Brisbane Morning
Mark McIntosh May 2015
chill surrenders to sun
blazing on a sky of deepening
blue. hour of quiet gathering
batteries fallow
this city
matured in two decades
gallery guards
stalking & pouncing from boredom

behind wire people tie
balloons to funk
neighbours wake
up a renovated *****

saturday traffic gathers
swish & hum, truck
accent. weather collects wanderers
friends missing a year
reuniting like
a week passed
585 · Apr 2015
Regular
Mark McIntosh Apr 2015
in the corner
a hot beer garden
thirsty palm is sad
holding cigarette butts
their fingers burnt
water scarce
lifting his ale
the regular customer
sees a face he knows
that man
pretends not to notice
584 · Mar 2015
New
Mark McIntosh Mar 2015
New
a lullaby for Finn


fingers clutch air, tickling atoms
restless new boy, limbs long & soft
flakes of skin adjust to atmosphere
sunrays through glass warming his back

a dinosaur suit primary & bright
lunch on a simmer, mother not far
tearing of hair, he grizzles & squirms.
gently swaying pram & springs

away in a slumber wondering things.
back in a dark room hopes are too high
nap that was short is broken by cry
snuggle to neck, respite from the light

rubs eyes with a velvet fist of pink.
lucky new life in a household of care
father, two sisters to also guide here
dream on little boy, a world is out there
Written for Kate & Todd's little guy
583 · Mar 2015
Library
Mark McIntosh Mar 2015
big city room, streets quiet with
buzz in the distance. someone
awakens to a bladder, they retired earlier.
a siren wails & wails & is gone

emergency words. i don't know how they arrive
then are gone
like a thief stealing thoughts
transcribing the night.

equinox promises
a dance of planets
& there is no meaning unless
you choose to believe that.

still again
time to retire from the page
file things away
alphabetical order
583 · Aug 2015
Masquerade
Mark McIntosh Aug 2015
at this time of night
a question of wine
knows the answer
despite no enquiry
the show must go on
accomodating misunderstandings
improvised proceedings
when your glass gets to
low tide and having eyed
half a bottle still waiting
just one more
change of channel
to an athlete changing essence
visiting a vineyard to
taste other flavours
576 · Apr 2015
Easter Rain
Mark McIntosh Apr 2015
in the rain everything glistens
leaves sparkle in the grey
percussion on the roof
from the radio a piano concerto
a bird twitters in the distance sounding a bell
others hidden amongst branches
awaiting the sun

holy water without gods
the cycle of seasons
easter always wet with renewal
and a cross to bear
books of invented legends
rules to ignore
apart from ten

shining pastels and white
innocence discarded
there's a walker passing the fence
covered for this weather
treading slowly with an end in mind
there's a door in the distance
a key under a stone
575 · Jun 2016
Quartz
Mark McIntosh Jun 2016
see how the sediment drifts to the river bed
collecting over months, years, centuries
forms shades of colours that relate
to a single tone on a paint chart
to order from a disgraced man
rotting in jail before he passes a cursed
fortune to the daughter. how she relishes the numbers
& still likes to cast a rod in the stream
where the trout are jumpy and her wide
pants are proof against numerous things

hear how the current washes against the sandy
river beach. stretching your ears for surface
vibrations, spotting the littlest insects skating
hopefuls dodging the granules. smell the
clarity of water which has no scent but is
pure and hardly exists but you can feel it
rising up above your knees as your shins soak
and synthetic legs protect you from tadpoles
that morph into frogs you would never kiss.

hook a fish on barbed wire and watch it struggle
light the campfire and notice the flames rise
a communion with devils that breathe hot
embers. taste the flesh white and smokey
lick a fork until nothing remains
but taste buds that linger with the memory
of something captured. touch the rock
that is grey and brown and black all at once
how pink crystals sharpen & glisten
543 · May 2015
Comet
Mark McIntosh May 2015
conducting
from afar
the notes float

in the black
night of stars
a comet flares

seismic interludes
a moon casting
blank shadows

on a sphere
of unknown valleys
filtering the air

of rarefied mountains
scalding cobalt
the blue horizon

starts a new
day of night
with a different eye
539 · May 2015
Film
Mark McIntosh May 2015
images from
a playwright
and actors
insecurities
amongst alps
snake cloud
phenomena
drifting gradually
into the valley
mist lengthens
assistant disappears
reflecting text
in a new
production
a final frame
the older star
concentrating on
space
528 · Oct 2015
Respite
Mark McIntosh Oct 2015
the black vacuum
darker hours
remove the mites
they eat & eat
away at themselves
there's nothing left
to go by
but another beginning
when the half hour
ticks over
you don't know
what to do
with that time
but to reach out
into the skeleton
to remove the battery
528 · Jun 2016
Reboot
Mark McIntosh Jun 2016
in storms windows need protection
glass darkness with an inadequate
deflection of weather. everything blurs
in a foggy mirror & the steam only gradually
dissipates. a sheen clean from
distractions. seeking answers

spoken in a different tongue.
the vanity displays a book of words
unfamiliar. Asian scripts.
Hieroglyphics of faded pictures.
a dog eared page with a code
a logarithm missing

essential sections
when the sun beats down
& glare changes focus
eyes turn deadly
they misread the script
a waterfall of assumptions

flows from globes as if earth dehydrated
to crack skin
seeping truth through
when it needs encrypting
the hacker battle
mistakes an error message
509 · Jul 2016
Impressionist
Mark McIntosh Jul 2016
sun of muted
awakenings
the city hidden

crows squawk
the morning rain
commuters again

an endless snake
headlights
tailgate red

a jet roars
with its cargo of
weary passengers

followed by another
boom
of metallic wings

everything flying
this way & that
neglecting a puddle

wet sock
begins to soak
a damp shift
503 · Oct 2015
Celebrity
Mark McIntosh Oct 2015
wish you had stayed
to write out the pain
memorable music
of you for us
you went under a bus
paparazzi feed magazines
pop will eat itself
mirrors reflect an animal
caught in headlights
the rabbit scurries for a burrow
down that hole
strange temptations present
shining shards catching rays
during daylight the glare severe
shows so many flaws
photoshop camoflauge
with a silkscreen we can
make that picture an icon
495 · Apr 2015
Vampire Baker
Mark McIntosh Apr 2015
blood runs
fangs in a neck
watching & seeing
stored expressions
stolen events

turning in
tucking sheets
white & crisp
leaving the dough
to prove

the oven
hot
mit with holes
conditions for
a good loaf
489 · May 2015
Dust Storm
Mark McIntosh May 2015
screen glowing
in reflection
pale complexion
after midnight
some trailers
and emails
some news
contrary views
clear window
to a point of
perspective
fading sides
falling walls
behind my
stride into
dust clouds
losing vision
altogether
480 · Apr 2015
Still Life
Mark McIntosh Apr 2015
the castle seemed
abandoned
crumbling turrets
under years
of weather
drawbridge splintering
punctured soles
in the courtyard
faded benches
a three legged table
propped by rocks

door ajar
inside a maze
of mirrors & halls
clutching the bannister
master bedroom with
french windows
grimy glass filters sun
casting
abstract shadows on
a thin man's
gasp
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