shadows slumber as the sun
goes down oversized by a sky
made in a shimmering dusk.

beside me there is your heat.
suddenly sultry moist as the
days sweat cools on my skin.

you turn . orange light makes
lips' pinks ochre to a shade
covering pearls.

**** your eyes as they
read intention . you
arch and curl a lip slowly
to reveal blood coveting
ivory.


i am both drained to dust
and, dripping beads urging
to necklace with ivory and
pearls,
as
you finish the smile on my neck
and
complete the
dark.

crescent moon
scythes from reality
rounded sleep

not love lost
just how you felt it.
in black blood.

liver restored.
choice pound of
flesh brother.

you're angry,
i see.
you say
i'm danger.

i see you
carrying stones
i hear ground
beat with
sticks.

i have pain.
you are
sick.

truly a sky
made of sly seabirds
precipitations

optical sky
blue is an illusion
grey an effect

spun again
why the grey veil
carousel

while mourning.
gently the throb
of visceral flow
is reminder of
clocks.

pulse counts the
beats until
the bell is rung
calling the spirit
from it's case.

movement stops.
hands point two
and eleven.
dial painted.

one last turn of key .
in hope.
then questioning
if it really was
his time.

striking out to walk at night.
noise to move out the shadows.
my place to lurk

the wrapping of dark treacle's
out of me brings cold to
trap the meek.

not brightness blinding but
insidiously denying essence.
abusing the numb.

later in reflection holding
husks . the shadows creep
into me as remorse.

when did you last
in gentle obsession
cast your mind
so the wind spoke.

it passes. miss it's
touch and a whole
world being shunned.
are you such a force.

self-important that whispers
in trees, whistles of alleys
to hollow to drown
the media holler.

same current though howls
could rip through a town
bring your world tumbling
down.

hark then or would you decry
the cruelty and misfortune
and wail curses at wind .
be quiet .

listen to the situations
it brings.

do not chase me with garland
of apologies strung from sheds
of regret.

i love flowers.
in fields
and their dotes
ink linked so
they exist forever.

such passing events worthy
pursuit set me abundant
in decorant

dancing feet of
a tiger
tapped explanation
to fretful sort.

that joy cannot be
bound, owned or
traded for misery.

it waved a faintly
striped tail
and stepped out
on someone else's
tune.

Grrrrrr

there is no hurt that takes
more than is surrendered.

it is subjective. perhaps
it is this that makes
discord:

one does not understand.
other cannot accept knowing.

pain remains in place
and so makes pains
of hope(?)
in the other.

such passion is living
and any death
is in, and not of,
a person.

bitter sweet latex
kept pretext
that my hurt
it will divert
truth is
1st contact
made contract
writ n white ink
on blanched skin

watching the rolling, noisy, salty surf
running in fast, halting and in reverse
here and partly of the revolving Earth.
thoughts began to challenge and to curse

the simple it's physically notion
just water following rules to make foam.
even consider a whole teeming ocean
with sky above so life settles and roams

still no. that in it, round it and, all known
are much more than with senses we see.
read. these words by that sea are sown.
hence ,all in it and, those that sense it be

connected by the benign dependence
of coincidence in circumstance.

moving and tripping gently to your side
my face oblique, sweetly set, decries.
direction set by pointing intention
if there's passion it's of my declension.

meekly set and paler than a daisy
defenseless some man incited tupour,lazy.
you are easily rolled by part made bold
absent lust . closed. resist ****** cold

barriers hold until scent comeliness
my gentle sincere words do espress
fluid accompaniment of hands
brought together applause in lands

where acorns ride on veiny rods
and lovers smother the others sobs

crumpled face
gently rests
on tired neck.

worn out hands
reach out warm,
to the cold.

some passing
breeze takes
even more heat.

in a sigh
more is lost.
so shiver.

rattling chest
in thin vest
screams ill.

consumption
returns to
phlegm street.

sliding excuse
again
sidling nearer
gin
in hand.

a mess. sodden
and part ******
for what
you call you
or what
they call you.

matters naught
to innocents.
eyes tell hearts
only what is
taught

by mind.

my child knows
only of tumbling
and faces messy
from trembling
in joy.

you are the happiest
person in the world
of his heart.

cankered by self
centred bullseyes.
target
for arrows fledged
from dead wings.

love could be
nylon now.
sores do not
care if
instruments are false.

strung between the
hurt now and
some notion
of then words
flow.

do they salve
or do they
sear the flesh
stretched
weeping
consequence
of loving.

words if to sear
should find ear
who made one so ...
strange.

words if to salve
should not halve
loves joy into
loss.

love is purposed . true
to words that are not used
as whips or leashes.

no fertile ground
in words bound
to regret.

dawn spits colour
there , a mother cleans
her new borns

wave

throws spume

lifted high

painting pebbles

white

beach laid flat by hurrying sea
dries to be etched by the wind.

delicate trails. dynamic drawings
of the current that, in passing children,
they chase.

swiftness that makes it own draught.
it does not compete; just adds
footsteps to the sand

rain here by ransomed
drafts from warmer
continents

my space is chaffed
by the hidden soil
trailed from used
oceans

i, see

a stranded twirl
of stone pesce tail

still magic
despite miles
despite age
spites my eyes
spites vanity
bites
me

there. i am beguiled, so stand,
as i too wear into sand

what means this

raised hand

a fist



figure me not

i see hope

aloft

(but)

in that salute

jut square

in air



is threat, malice

violent

prejudice



halting fear and

lower that hand

take mine in yours

no weapons

in our wars

i hear my hurt
from the inside
wailing and weeping
on the outside
suffering splits me
so that sound
escapes

her tears run
round reddened eyes
past pink lines

ink marks it's paper
to tell a story

loneliest vigil I have ever seen repeated
crumpled by neglect it's weight seated
in self scorn and mirrored in signs
iterated in his brothers' eyes.

move on 'cause I've hurt the scene
they spotted that past being
of below all view and prone
exposed given a penny, a bone.

a moment stretched by same inflection
a parallel mirrors reflection reflection.
i, looker, am in that view light tied
and there a fraternity fixed resides

yes. stop I did and did devour
that set to review in every hour

common senses once taught
flat Earth accepted thought

possibility of straight line
coming back to then define
circular transit
was deceit
heresy
lunacy

perception forced was destroyed
by a sailor royally deployed
to exploit sea trade
of dragons afraid
some returned
facts earned
world
round

followed many tribulations
persecution in inquisitions
round and round
the seat of heaven
Earth then Sun
Universe
begun
relative
subjective

in any case your senses
are instructing pensé
according to rules
that time makes fools
so (h+H)awking
ideas not
sound
Universe is flat
not round

a hand raised to cut out some of the glare. still only see glare. worry stalked my thoughts while hunger rattled on my ribs. Time being beaten out by the slap of tattered sail against the broken limb that should be stout skywards not right angled into the .... glare.

i am a fair sailor on a regular day. today i am a burnt out wreck foolishly adrift after capsize. ok foolhardy but who would not wish to be in the blue on such a day. a day 5 or 6 ago on a whim and gentle wind to gather me into nature. She has done with me now and I waft away into sleep.

There I am carried away from desperate thirst and pained imagined goodbyes to a place that seems cool and if not dark it is at least bare of violent light. I blink. I did, it hurt. All is grey apart from land-born angels pointing home.

flat grey sky
is hiding seagulls
with rain on wings

urban air
poisoned with oil from
refined war

fear or shame that
makes the mask wearer

vermin hands in salutation
to the first martyr

take me ,as he, as lesson
to the children

***** wings on angels
bare, carry away sin
and virtue

dust falling from dry eyes:
have no wet
for you
street imp

red, yellow, blue sore saucers glaring in light
some rewards of flight from a dark night.
weeping a little in my honeyed bed.
haematoma proof of the love you bled.

tender sacrifice under arc in flight.
the sting of conquester’s wing, a slight
on your grace and features that will bring:
no scream but in colours you'll sing.

the rhythm. a slap, a punch, a slap, slap
you collapse and welcome into open flap
it's sting, ****** of stamen into stigma.
a death most welcome in heat of day

when, in killing bed,your sisters heralds
good King Chloris in the closing chorus.

analgesia amnesia antidote
to last night
stuck in throat

tattered pride resides
in your eyes
lost to me

vestments of vanity varnished
in sacrificed blood
now chemically numb

coming round to LED
light and message beep
reality of the deceipt

red yellow blue saucers

in my honey bed.


haematoma proof

of the love you just bled.


sacrificed under arc in flight.

the sting of conquester's wing.


never did you scream but in

colours did sing


to your sisters heralded

Chloris in the dying chorus

molasses with the stink of gangrene
blisters from the wound;
it will not run

foul slow swelling putrescence
of plasma and, past cells
can only be lanced

it will not run.

congealed crust of scab
and keratin strands
is shield for eyes
and, the point.

it will not run.

past where ***** lie
beside christian soldier
whose older and bolder
panhandling shames guy.

eyes lift from dirt to seat.
overflow shame is then
crammed in a telecoms pen.
salvations' hat sits complicit

with our gaze raised upto
other responsible 'sort'
whom donations taught
to be our virtue.

rolling a tulip.
gone.
eyes soft. heads nod.

walls of alabaster layered cave
hazy bodies litter rave.

i am folded: foldin rizla blue
first a pocket by lick the glue.

toast some bensons
add in some resin.

filled and build over tube.
sweet trick, the petal, dude.

small tribe makes the ground
that the tulip travels around

rise and fall under feathers warm exhales.

you are added to the invisible.

consequence nothing remains of details

that inflated the anger made hate risible.


as I lie limboed across the shared vapours

of moments past part making the next me.

so irrelevant now, flow of dark humors,

that we buoyed into and ground out to free


that dancing dream exalted by the hair

floating like gossamer without me there

rise and fall. faintest of exhales
you are added to the invisible.
thus:
nothing remains of details
or the anger made hate. risible,

as I lie watching a twist of your hair
dancing in your freed dreams.

swiftly passes some grey occluded light
when temperature and high currents shift.
not excluded; that worried moon at night,
yet their voluminous nothings drift.


happenchance that such collisions can wreck
the fusion made dance of light and heat.
a silent complicity has no check
to balance this pirouette of deceit.


not seeing the empty left by your draught
he is all rapt in the swirling eddy.
trapped with me now giddy and, mad laughter
in the blooming gloom, casting shadows, steady.


we,too much like drab dancers on a stage,
lit tragically for such a tryst parade.

swiftly passes occluded light
when high currents shift.
not excluded, at night,
yet their volume drift.

not seeing your draught
he was wrapped in the eddy.
how i laughed
the gloom so steady.

too many dancers on stage
lit poorly for tryst parade

meat in your caustic
cell has been saponified. 
the cleansing of laboured
love by dissolution.

essential chains broken 
because you were stained.

the burning heat of lust
tossed into a chemical soup
where passion passed for
addiction and fidelity was
a *****.

you clean. stand tall.
on the wax of my bones

thouest ****
my promised quince
widely spread

it is in the system code
give a **** : best I did
was reboot the core
in the program, man

not a virus or hacked control
'cause I am my need disease
big system stream
in the program, man

kinking with craze for energy
self sourced electricity.
warning lights and crashes
in the program, man

flash amber glows lit my kin
flagging errors on lines
of code need syntax
in the program, man

habit loop IF, THEN
we recall and a script is
mine for some steps
in the program, man

through a tiny crack a whole epoch
was revealed. lines more than words
marked living that had past into rock

up close the lives could be seen.
from afar the time scene.

dig in a layer to learn which devoured
and which was consumed. tiny stone
ghost. hieroglyphs to knowing eyes.

is the minutia the story or is it the sweep
of the Terra twisted by it's force to reveal:
secrets.

these layered lines specks of alphabet dust or construct.

there is miasma outside.
in here is full of misery.

i am going to open the window.

will there be a current?

ambling along in no particular style.
my eyes caught sight of clouds
stretched thin and, think to defile,
to myself state, too proud,

that i have seen the fingerprint
of God and I am the paper
he has pressed his ink
upon. evidence: should pauper

prince, beast or field
by his hand ever be killed.

i wonder lonely
with a frown
long faced pony
in a dressing gown.

some are curious
as to where to buy
something so spurious
for four legged guy.

i say to them "trot on".
donkeys,this time of day,
should be braying upon
their pews made of hay.

feeling a bit shagged,
from crossing the gorge,
to avoid the old nag
i have a pint in the george

nothing but empty vessels
sounding of each other

clash of will and ideology
would bring progress

it is their hollowness that
makes the volume.

made from paper promises
used to secure debt.

written off against the bribe
taken to represent
desire of blind stocks.

not the wants of people.

the noise is with the monster
muscled by limited liability
and beau-tied by advertorial

a Victor lost his life to a monster.
we fellows, as corps. are larger
than states and, nations now are
subject under law to them, will be
consumed by

what we've bought.

trashed hormones and so I go
deeper red . no skin.

just me spaced on your lips.
parted slightly. pink tip
catching against hard mouth

too far to hear.
to near to deny.

look.

i'm feeling marigold.
zesty , Sun like
and

hoping you eat flowers