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neth jones Jan 2021
Let's chew gum
   chew on the fat
      rustle up conversation
         rodent upon the rat

Hustle

Let's trip traps
communal fear
of God smite-y creation
not communication
why tussle with language
when we all carry firearms
wrestle free the tongue
skim the wisdom
bellow the lung
muscle up a tune
and spit out your gum
neth jones Dec 2020
01
account your blessings :
there is limited space
               for the exhaustion
                       of our mythology
                    to fertilize
MARK
neth jones Dec 2020
bath salts
single malt
a mouth of candles crown
                        the tub
                  the body
                     from spilling out
             into the cold surround

the brimming sill
    capsize the moat
         foam disgorges in a luppy spawn...

doff your gown
        evacuate
           your own company ?
pour sacredly
to drown
                  
                                        ­                 - 'Chin-chin'
crystal cubed ice afloat
vocalize
tell
cast anchor your vote
neth jones Dec 2020
singing notes of the sick dawn
a bird makes off with my heart
humiliation
pins it to the notice board
I'll not retrieve it
and
unclothed
be witnessed
neth jones Nov 2020
energized point of
ever changing perspective
am I ?      degrading material
neth jones Nov 2020
snare is sprung
flesh from the forrest fruit
the humming drum
         of its fright
an untamed meat
          struggles like the life
wirey noose tightly
wrist hook and thumb
ridden to bone
energy shrugged
        in fits of the struggle
defeat
     and then the meat
        is untenanted
neth jones Nov 2020
beyond the sponge
and spoilings that form my bulk
meat heart beats
but it's not the boast of me
it has tree like dispassion

but then, conflict... 14th / Sept / 2020 / Elsons Crag

The Forest firs sway. The trees bend at the top like sea grass with the tide. Cloud movement strobes sun over this carpet. I view from a cliff.
It stirs rare warmth in my heart half

No !

React under attack. the heart throws up monsters and little stickmen waving spears. violent breathing and horrid garbage and gore and villainous words turned inward and folded and pounded and dough and hurt..

i've turned from the beauty and crouch in a revulsion of balance

this foreign glow cannot be simply experienced. to me, a warm heart is one in need of defence ...as is one in mourning
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