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5d · 209
black tie attire
standing pin    with military tension
           a dead suit
torted stance in the mirror solvent
commandeering a flect stare
      more punish than my double could lance me

                                                     - salute
Sep 4 · 422
neth jones Sep 4
cold breeze
the ticking heat off a parked car
has summer resigned ?
summer 23
haiku style
Aug 21 · 373
01 001
neth jones Aug 21
flying ants are 'the business' today
differing species
clumsy as ducks in landing
unclear of their randy goals
they bat about scorching streets
summer 23

Aug 20 · 347
the murder tree
neth jones Aug 20
who re-marrowed this hollow tree ?
thought themselves of mythology ?
processed death into the dying **** ?
blunt   blackened hope
           buttering up what god ?
                                   what mischief maker ?
: Loki the crow with his promethean nose ?

covering his crooked actions
                          the defiling of a life
  a coward of failed coupling
congress    a night down the pub
    the gender polar pair collided
            sottish upon their union
genitals bragging through urgent gaps in clothing
but that urgency deflated
it muttered away
he felt baited
             he committed to ******

crude amateur throttling
  a ***** sogged brick  
an indiscreet botch up
    and a stolen wheelbarrow  
        to ferry her away

'The Mourning Tree'
           despondently sifts for nourishment
its gummy combs of branches
  sashing particles  from the night solution
the tree ; a cavity
too verrucose and fleshy to whittle the winds
                                               or fife a tune
a rubbery craggle     foreign against the landscape
should   rather   make out its' habits
                  off the floor of a deep sea trench

roughing in the corpse
head first   down the gullet thirstily
skirts up and claustro
between spread limbs
to ***** puckle in the hollow tree
evicting the bird of Minerva
      ‘whoing’ into the charged sky
  blooded over
             the night blackens further
               brooding on the event

who re-marrowed this hollow tree ?
married themselves to a mythology ?
force fed life   engorged within deathly seed ?
upended crime     in lieu of a sacrifice
           he offered a glass of woman
               to oder the night
he strummed teasing fingers
      raked them humming
         through the heady resistance of the air
electric creeping warmth   over the skin
                        erecting the hairs
   museum silence
   an arena    as fraught equal    between magnets
       clouds cut the moon
      moon cut the eye
    sinful kiting to mend a link
ramblings kinked
he makes sparking incantations to the gods

one scatting madman
one corpse woman

that same bled night
where the furrowed fields
            meets natures disarray
children approach this woodland border             
children with empty baked bean tins
      that they joined with lengths of string
trying to reach out their ears
    extend their timid range
       to sprites, nymphs, pucks or faeries
an older kid strikes up a cigarette
one of the younger ones squats to ***
         and be mocked

one brave girl of ten years
  runs a tin and the line into the woods  
it jerks taunt after about thirty paces
she wedges it in a tree fork and runs back
the children crowd the receiver tin
spooking themselves
        upon the hollow wisdom of small gods
            that mask their shame in the dark
influenced by ‘ Who put Bella down the Wych Elm? ‘

misuse of the word 'sashing'
Aug 16 · 243
01 1
neth jones Aug 16
in the worst oppressive nights
breeding chafer beetles
  bead the trees   outside the hospital
they copulate
in their hundreds of thousands

what a release
summer 23
no. 4

Aug 15 · 351
01 000
neth jones Aug 15
Four Crows fly over
the rear gunner ***** twice as hard
            to keep his mates
Gaps in his Wings
   from history with a Predator

Clammy weather
                 grey summer rainfall
summer 23

Aug 14 · 491
01 010
neth jones Aug 14
the dog night salivates and commands
                                     and commands
but i am abroad from that
  asleep with my family
  under the open windows
as others stew in the clubs, bars
     and packed terraces
summer 23

Aug 13 · 406
01 1101
neth jones Aug 13
the aggressive dote of the sun
   over the shimmering bleat of the city

muted by a power cut
summer 23

Aug 12 · 356
01 0110
neth jones Aug 12
my little grazing eye
summer distraction
  the people passing by
summer 23

Aug 11 · 610
01 111
neth jones Aug 11
can’t sleep   in summer night swelter
beetle clicks on its back
the cat (and cause)   watches it 'do the Kafka'
summer 23

Aug 10 · 411
01 10
neth jones Aug 10
  and smudged by impurities

viewed thru aging window
summer 23
no. 1

Jun 30 · 349
neth jones Jun 30
afterparty mingle in a single bedroom vault wincing ceiling slopes so low condemning matter dance to fumbles and more penetrating life forces gum-***** into stressed room couple and squirm over into the crawl space hazardous music and metallic humour is pushing risks and insult no being is out of place pouting the smoke and store brand alcohol routing and deafening and defeating too much the gagster comes thundering down the corridor like he was wrought for applause he addresses those outside the room and it's wagging dogs and a face of cartoony ballooning pep it's hard to handle the wash of wording an assault of enthusiasm jester baits laughter with an old polaroid camera slamming open the door all tension his way he presses the button and projects them all against the walls 'Flash ****** ! ' he squells throws aside the camera 'People Pile!' he thumps into the crowd bed begging a play fight baroque girl hugging her knees crammed under the small sink to the side of the door reaches out a nervy hand and takes the discarded camera watches the ******* photo paper fade in slow retch her own pose lone excluded soul separate and saved she leaves with souvenir

you come thundering in
like you were made for applause
when you speak it's just 'wagging dogs'
your face is a cartoon of ballooning pep
i can't handle the wash of this conversation
an assault of enthusiasm
Jun 15 · 818
01 11
neth jones Jun 15
   in dreams    i am flossed at sea
only to be
   muttered and lost
           once upon awakening
un-present and tense
Jun 11 · 916
neth jones Jun 11
leisure up my friend !
   weaken open your shellfish hinge
       and wet your beak
it’s a marked holiday break
   unmarred by family obligation
there’s freedom
   to make the most criminal crown of mistakes
   in the name
         of some frown of liberal investigation

on the town
an eager squad of collaborators are on board
     they have your back
desperate, sick and starving gulls
     broadened to explore the deplorable
on and on to the next and the next
     death defining task

a meandering stagger of a bar crawl
  perpetually   powering through
     as the day spans a revulsion
the heat stays as the day sinks beneath
in place of the suns rays
the heat radiates instead
        from the baked city concrete
stepping out from the shelter of the bar
  the night swelter respires fiercely
not done with our steam of annihilation
  what establishment would take our kind ?
city has already bowed over it's plumage
                                 to our ******* pilgrimage
bark melts and peels in strips off the trees
        (meat shaved off the strip pole)
our heels spark the pavement
vermin and jackals follow our movement
             from shimmering dark spots
             and our vision constricts

our aim   has become clotted...
      ...what was it that we reached for ?
oblivions fruit seemed a doable pursuit

it's the usual downhill shambles from here
familiar yet barely remembered
a rambling guff of bad ***** comedy
there is no plucky legend
just an embarrassment
Jun 1 · 479
mating prance
neth jones Jun 1
i've a plundering urge
to whom it is absurd,
                     the black teeth
                     the blood scribes
                     the woe, the whither,
                                               the word
i felt seen   from afar
telescoped warmth  cups my right shoulder
and i expand from shrivel   in your forgiving light
are you my soilmate ?

for you i prepare scents   beading from my most sweaty regions
       a moist sporing    emits in nifty allium spritzes
i stammer to a standing position
                          and exercise my full height

           i swing and tap an annihilated aluminum bat
              sounding out my specific code of fidelations
                   resonation through the ground
                     and suddenly you are near
                    receiving the humming
                  up the souls of your doughy bare feet
                         you shiver

i prance wildly and perfect kilter in my hips
i offer to preen you
i present you with a pyramid of spittle balloons
i **** myself a little
i sink my teeth into your side    (it's not 'your jam'
    but we recover the mood)
i give chase to you for you to be chased
and it's a wild kind of keen fun
         and you are a madcap display of laughter and wide smiles
and   within     i feel a gordian nest  
         of some lust manoeuvre 
(maybe we can copulate face-to-face ?)

pondering scars     wounds that were much deserved
the white meat    the bright stars    delivered

who is rude to the rule       of what is ours ?  
i knew you
magnesium burn    and unwholesomely dauntless
  bold   your portfolio always within an easy reach
your passionate simmering might    you branded my eye
and now we're similar    mites in a feather
simian partners surveying territory needs

and then you’re gone again

       and we are distant minds that strike the hour together
                                like before
between our signals I am met with cross chatter
my hemispheres bicker
and retorting memories barrage
        refunding the past
    and taking you away from me

i am a mating dunce once more
             i shrivel
May 29 · 811
a prayer for combustion
neth jones May 29
watching for air                              a mad thing of static to do
unwashed  i hold it all foreign   my perspectives clothed as the enemy
an agreed muscle of tension       with pockets fracked into my hands 
i look out the window   wide agape guidance                                                     invasive drills of heat   the giving sunlight ; punishing,
a tree,   the grieving buildings
the whinging of cicadas
and here i am     watching for air

one point for the weather                                                      
one­ point for the view                                                            
­one big point for my ****** condition                                
one point for the passers by and their galling dramedies

and there it is ; the wiry plan that's built                        
from one small tickle of wild thought              
                                 formed long ago
trickling to the current day
some whipped wit of poisoned psychology          
     fed to the inbreed   (welcome   you panting imp)
decades of saved up fatty layers
a deed   of habitual sediment
retching until the tide laps become still
   a cured and congealed gladness
marbled, a butcher would say
i am full and hearted and heated and padded senseless
        turned under a heel   with my wastrel history
  i’ve accomplished this     a stifled condition
                               of poisoned obscenity

seated deep        almost fully incapacitated  
in my armchair   on this chummy day
my leisure clothes greasy     sluck against my blemished hide
a packet of cigarettes   to my side
rounded upon  by sounds of the neighbours affairs
with a gasp of energy   i 'skin one off' vigorously
my system trembling   with years of hard liquor
borderline   to a state of unconscious whelm
retained final       prime for ignition
i could manage a spectacle
a blinding flare
                                  a glorious incineration
and the release
                      of my true oder

i light a match for my cigarette
a glass bottle                                                                                  
         and not simply shatter       with  '*******' explosion    
(though it is an option)

imagining the worst sinnings in the rooms surround
Apr 12 · 716
neth jones Apr 12
wake up pup
eager those linkers
blink your blinkers
unsink from sleep
and stretch
for a four year old human child
Mar 4 · 850
neth jones Mar 4
muddied skies muffle
clarity that was winter
season blots
winter - February - 2023
Mar 4 · 936
neth jones Mar 4
sleight of hand season
will not be reasoned with
brumal upheaval
winter - February - 2023
Mar 4 · 871
neth jones Mar 4
molded ***** sky
broody welling grey udders
rain to be cast or snow ?
winter - February - 2023
Mar 2 · 915
early spring vibe
neth jones Mar 2
it is time                                          
it is time for ***** weather
mingles and prickles    elastic and fawn
ecstatic inch and itch spastically
goad and trample and leach
all a squirm
a thawing squirm of ***** restlessness
                      the energy of springtime

then winter dumps its load again
neth jones Feb 15
two barks don't make a bite
it takes two dogs
to make a dogfight
Feb 11 · 590
01 0100
neth jones Feb 11
closed my eyes
the heart seems hesitant
an unsure child
each beat comes a little late and with question
'is that the right thing to do ? did i do it right ?
Feb 9 · 828
neth jones Feb 9
an animal - what animal ? - a fox
peeling off it's pale socks    bit the hems between it's teeth
slimmed feet
it walks now   to more silent a world
viewed in billowing gladness
many doses thick     veil it from our dull sense ability
we are a haunting to its realm
Feb 2 · 1.2k
neth jones Feb 2
the world is flown
       and i sleep beside you wed
 our mossy appetite has become cleaved  
                                   a sleeve running between us on this bed
      a warm hum     the pores  pipe open
    intimacy issues forth    traversing the gap
  intelligence sliding    slack and froth    
        like moist candy-floss   icking and tearing

our shared dream
     our powerful phantom
         gussy travellers
       ravelling in sheets of smoky sea
 grey/green misting of the memory gland
gathering up dead celebrity
tuning structures to our jubilee
re-creation in a vibe theatre
we're partners conducting our behaviour
                         for a grand flotsam revelry    
                                      dizzed up and narcotic
         no doubt ; we are unreal

it is the neon hour...

i flicker
           feeling the rushing of your warm system
         i feel weather speed over our bodies
                               striping and refreshing the energy
            in the oil light blinking   i see you
          scar beauty over the berths' landscape
           you turn the body over and illuminate the eyes
          you are if to say     "plug back in to our shared motion"
           "we could be imperishable"
         "i cannot return without my inconsiderate spouse"
          you brush my hand which fizzes
                                          and i clothe my eyes
           re-enter our developing potion
          within   our great mouths feed alike
          our dual nature is a shared gratification   within
guided evolution of a somni-lucid state
Jan 23 · 1.2k
b r i n k
neth jones Jan 23
c o n t a c t
up-stairs roof-top
toe-tips the-edge long-drop
flourish/ball-lightning echo-foxtrot
plunder/of the gods/thunderous once more
glance-down and it’s merry-go-round
vertigo      lost - and - found
you shout my name
c o n t r a c t
impact   cement
face-torn to shape a smile
laugh      'after a while crocodile'
; the last witty thought my mind does attract
devil  pact         and  the  gravity
mortally  i n v e s t e d
arrested     now
c o n t a c t
Jan 1 · 1.0k
neth jones Jan 1
tips, brushes and spills and the willingness of physics
dip the quill
blending a full face of colours trippy
tipping my crown, my head,
my thinker becomes      creation winning
i wink   faithfully lacy    into the universe    pirouettes and eddies
i divide myself    couple and quad and oct..
flood my breeding into the cosmos
spoon-feeding      peddling out into the mutter
the great relax of the creative meddle
written for a 'picture prompt' competition. the picture was a painting of a human face made of galaxy swirls and outer space features.
Dec 2022 · 1.0k
01 101
neth jones Dec 2022
a glint
then, in love
a grenade of sunlight
the morning is sharply taken
bathing off of shots    from the reflective snow
17/11/21 - 1st version
Dec 2022 · 2.5k
neth jones Dec 2022
feet first                                            
into the treat of the night
the teating streets                            
         the neighbours pool
drunken fools the pair of uz          
      dunked in unruly lust
drunk as fruit flies                            
                  for the science
we list about                                      
                     ­                and stumble              
fumbling lyrics                                  
    in our dripping clothes

laughing like art gone temple        
a mentally unstable template    

that'll be fazed by the sunrise        
Dec 2022 · 484
m u r e
neth jones Dec 2022
'well enough to work'   it is said                      
that is not how i feel
but they don't want me to have any more
paid time off
('where are the nearest bathrooms ?' )    i scout
my eyes vote against it all                              
gloating white blight fills the corridors
           leering and bleaching my thinking
pressure strobing                        
my quaking hands cannot hide
         stoking up the goods   i am churned
   chilled in flashes   and ready to purge

this   somehow   became my neutral state
my wet and wrinkled butterfly
with development hacked
pollutants of my own body gummed
to some gnarled form of active culture
like there are ants building with decaying spittle
manky damaged mandibles                                      
                reforming my state   corrupted

'well enough to work' i battle the common workday
suffering routine habitually
breeding and fighting sickness within
Dec 2022 · 3.4k
neth jones Dec 2022
eyes are
quite gelatine
mending bubbly detail
mocking  up  fact   to suit user
/the ears ?  crinkled dishes of pinkened veins
robbing blood to probe the gossip
/digits  bud on the feed
in polyp growth
and ****** a
pepper mill from off the
coffee table/tongue  leeches lips
retaining massaged notes from food oils past
/spatting nostrils   puncture the air
punching out breath purling
inhale a stressed
Nov 2022 · 497
neth jones Nov 2022
behaving lunatics
repressing     til the coming of rupture
                    when the clocks shall strike dumb

then we shall plumb freedom of expression
1st version 24/11/22

Nov 2022 · 992
01 0111
neth jones Nov 2022
faded Ladybirds swarm    my buildings intercom
Are they responding to an electric hum ?

faded Ladybirds swarm
a yellow painted wall
it is an unyielding prayer
no nourishment before the freeze
observation of population explosion of imported faded ladybirds
Nov 2022 · 969
an outpatient's prayer
neth jones Nov 2022
solicit the galling thoughts                                                  
those obscenities   rigged gorily within        
          victim concepts   taught distortion   forbidden carcass

in the persisting sully of night                                            
padded dreams pace    ******* at a fed distance      
it's all in sight  and held racing back and forth  out of reach
                     some sloven mystery
under a cower of skin

one day free of your agent cover                                        
and you'll stand   vacantly able     under eye of the morgue creator
mating together life habits    gracious goodness gratefully seeded
you could maintain a patient pattern
with practice you could go mainstream

                                 -with practice
Nov 2022 · 464
b e e t l e . . .
neth jones Nov 2022
beetle like foetal
shrink wrapped pebble
peddling twig ticking limbs
shrouded  wings
so sung    into its sorcery  
jewel cracked    meal like  delicately 
delicacy         if commuted to mouth
however    it is committed to the air
strike veins and charge the tissue
sprout the wings    freed
cupped caring breast beats on the air
heavy beetle           upright suspends
carried with pendulum dignified flair
a businessman of the sky till arrival
with a mandible crown in place
of a stiff bowler hat
and limbs flung
ready to greet
or do battle
Nov 2022 · 554
project deadline
neth jones Nov 2022
i must hustle    cause i’m made of spoil
moist rice skin
            thinly incases  soft fluttering organs
mucus coated   elastic  chicken bones
                                          run throughout my parcel
they prop me      doe-ing before the lumy screen
     (the screen that volunteers us all)

emaciating into my work
      through this communal portal    i'll detonate my legend
    my spirit shall decant and dispel gladly
in the world remaining
    my cadaver will become acclimated
                        and re-meat the soil in an easy spill

         no longer alienated     my work will be    utter

original version

I must hustle    cause I’m made of spoil
moist rice skin
            incasing soft fluttering organs
bones prop me      doe-ing into lumy screen
in that world I’ll emaciate my legend
before    in this one     I re-meat the soil

Nov 2022 · 1.9k
01 00
neth jones Nov 2022
sky like combed smoke
unseasonably warm for mid November
carrying my coat
i wonder if winter depression
can be missed this year
Nov 2022 · 814
c i t y L.E.D.s
neth jones Nov 2022
the city's moon                                            
       fixated in its peoples tics and behaviour
                    crass and mentally fractured
traction acts
the loony satellite makes sway for rude construction          
                                          ­        padding our ego psychology
nothing    simple    allowed
we are all a manic reference of each other

the city weather is steered                              
       by currents of gossip
withhold your info
               culture clutches
misguiding alliances
    treasure your details                                              
                      it is your only insurance

this city                                            
it's a view to thrill                                              
            ­ but it odors me til ill
****** privacy and get undressed
too much time here   harbouring thirst      
quibbling hurt feelings                          
         signals ;  Life Emitting Distress

lock up the night city stars                                 
                 mar-glaring bulbs of pity-me
                          staring about for vagrancy
i flip up my hood             
lucent pandery eyes span the communal routes   
search us out       merchandise and mood
i turn down an alleyway
and am confronted
                                          a vain and voyeuristic fan tail
varieties cocktail of sales and entertainment
ad lights send out sonar 'pings'
wing-ed ; fencing judgement
i wear pricy contacts to veil my retinas
and my hood is lined with aluminium

     i cough and concentrate on breath
commemorate each step undertaken
weaponize my walk
eyes low
my being is voided into guise

heading further from the city centre
i can straighten from my defensive pose
in amongst the dwellings              
             the urban effect dwindles
kindled   instead   by the dosey soup wash of streetlights
delights;   the holy crop of them
webbing outward    retching past our boundaries          
              shored back upon natures breath                      
(so i imagine)
Nov 2022 · 882
neth jones Nov 2022
my eyes are heady    **** bloating
                                       from within the sun
       white embellishment lasers out  
                  lending provision
     setting life   to the organic cog and clock
provoking muted growth  to retch a bloom
                                     ­ spending
                                                       ­         seeding

my tread  destroys nothing
each step    frictionless  
patterning little hovering eddies
                              a fraction above ground
minimal is my disruption
enough    only to promote a deeper observation
    tender fanning     of the life that i am fawning over

how to feel this spritely at all times ?   t'would be a spell
                                                 a fondled thing

         it’s from our night of shared tether
our infection threw out an extra pleasurable souvenir
it carried its energy    into the ensuing day

i am launched affection
beckoned     into the true employment of my surroundings
carrying my socks and shoes in one hand
and my heart?  it is a possession of the senses
i am truly led
i am emitting
Oct 2022 · 808
01 0000
neth jones Oct 2022
plough tills the plot
overturns one season
for one of greater potential profit
Oct 2022 · 656
neth jones Oct 2022
draking death    features and tones
no lust lost
in oceans we toss
man only   of our presence to be
included rudely
at the suggestion of the wet nurse
thirsty in linen
uniform beds her words


long as ever is
in the business of breath
methods of incubation
amorated swells in the pattern
batten the flourish of our human ilk
for the journey would calm
our raving losses
       and punctuations of breeding

draking death   features and torso
no lust lost     (in oceans we toss)
fusing mastication of thought;                                
                                    our insistence to stagnate
long as ever is
         in this business of breath

methods of incubation
amorated swells in the pattern
but 'no'                                        
               we'd best batten the milky flourish
                                            of our human ilk
       the journey of the species would calm
(room temperature warm)
                       and ripple till taut   a mood of silk
if we only retain our broths skin

or perhaps      our raving losses
       and punctuations of breeding
could cattle on ?
included rudely
at the crude suggestion of the head wet nurse
thirsty   in her pressed linen
white hearse
uniform beds     her nourishing oration
a stern laboratory condition
is upheld

                               - dress us
                                             for the feed
Oct 2022 · 951
01 110
neth jones Oct 2022
move to the countryside
(cities crowd judgement)
   and carve a tree upon my heart

span life in walks
   and scrapes with harsh weather

soon to leather myself
   into a practical creature

earn lighter being
  seldom to pass stressful thought
Sep 2022 · 1.3k
charity warren
neth jones Sep 2022
distress men
distress women     the children follow suit
rooted        to their calculation
                             bore-hole n' punction
         functional ?   they ponder the fault   idling in their programs din

rescue them ?
their fearsome egos     will gum you up
tup and rupture your goodwill

despair man
despair woman    the children groping at their heels
sealed and merry mated     to the manner     spools that habit
rabbits and fools back into the boil

make a meal
  displace them ?
   their otherworldly longings ?
    wrong them welcome      into your loving bloom

this is how its done
here's a catalogue
  how big you've won
   better gig    than landing on the moon

distrust man
deface woman       the children drink from the wound
battle         become the saviour
behaviour shot against the mood
food to greet     the newly batched    cultural result
worthy of mention
the soiled spell
         going to drown though the generations
just trust   the serpent eye
and the lens of peddling assault   holds everything to its station
                                    for a jittering moment
                                    for a breakable moment
                                          a disgraced monument    
                                bereft         fidgeting in its place
MARK - last verse
Sep 2022 · 1.2k
neth jones Sep 2022
the city is gruffly petted with heat  
       buildings quiver in the primeval whither
wide mouthed and whiskered
         the catfish thrive in the sewers
taking aggression to the air and fixing to the trees
        the insects speed into vigorous breeding

in the populated afternoon    city is sternly scored    
pressed down on    its wilted fur pushed    from back to front
each itchy person   is its own greasy hair
salt beads from brows    and stinging eyes are blinded

scolded and bonded      the witless humans slow
natures patient pace is not kin to their will
ticking noises and electric whines whittle the air
discomfort makes life immediate
       a deal to be flustered with
every enduring breath is consciously felt
       alive and in suffering

i crouch my form in shelter
a jilted couch to lean against     bordering a grown over lot
watching the foxes patrol in sweltering sun
what expected prey   brought them into the light ?
i release my hurt understanding   (it patrols also)
my hurt snakes through the long tough grass   and tacky broken glass
it moves further   raised in a mirage hover
over welting heat from the melting tarmac
this way   i please my way into nurture
this way   i ease my suffering
hum with the wires
and smile at a good day putrefying
july 2022
a sump cleansing
raiding the filth back to the surface
Sep 2022 · 987
guilts disciple
neth jones Sep 2022
with disciplined guilt
i can spill a kind of pornographic hemorrhage
                   provoking a spell into the mind
                      a spiel
so many illicit thoughts to priss a label on
             laxed into this state
              i imagine my punishments
               received in swollen glory
and   in turn   for this ungated imagination
                         i may earn further punishment
(no glory / dunce / head hung)

skirting dirt for promise
opening the aperture to the wild dark woods
    and beyond natures primal propeller
seeking out opportunities for submission
  under a church weight
          of my own mined and kinkled cranium
Sep 2022 · 1.9k
f o r g o
neth jones Sep 2022
lovers forgo their faces
       defacing in the act
mammering their information to unreadable smudges
  they slur in kinetic fluctuation
experimenting material forms fray
     each    the others face is vented away
     betray being human
  no separated being
and then...

     to return in the tender moments following
             a bumbling landfall
then they are athletes
     enamoured and praising of the other
     flushed and radiating
having rushed the life from their breath
they heave in its return

Later     in a **** trip down to the night kitchen
they forgo they faces in a foxes forage
hers ; over-lit by the fridge light
          face thrown into a mask by extreme shaddows
his ; beyond this light in the dark
they are bodies
sneak children
the raider and the lookout

after many years make the familiar relation
her face disappears into a hand mirror
and his is pulled out
into a middle distance beyond the dresser
durred in thought and waiting for 'go'
to the restaurant tonite
or that career social that neither wishes to attend

                                        - fell shy of Eden
inspired after veiwing art by Alex Colville and Francis Bacon
neth jones Sep 2022
s t a t i c

populous city
summer heat gloating
these isolated nights poison
anxious residents
all strangers to their neighbours

squared away
they coil about their trusted genitalia

c o w e r

wolf ,
          could you even go stalking in the woods ?
                 you'd get blisters
                            breaking in pricy footwear
          that smart suit ?
                             ridiculous ;     covering your fur
           you've become cowed by your domesticated soul
other brevity version - static

summer   city   night
cast    in orange static
dried spoil crunches underfoot
heavily housed buildings
of their unknown neighbours       
they coil
  around their genitalia
                and despise
Sep 2022 · 838
01 0010
neth jones Sep 2022
headlights feed the darkness
slow to a thief's caution
passing the sleeping houses

   my child pushes back bedtime
from the streetside window

Sep 2022 · 178
a n t i c l i m a x
neth jones Sep 2022
sap life's might                                                                                           ­      
sweet meat played against its decay
fertile pocket of the grimace death                                                        
                                         meat sweet pocket baby of pacing matey death
pant my way into the afterlife                                                        ­
                                   punt one betraying thought after-naught
nutritious carriages rattling a plenish                                  
                 gatling across the brains warlord terrain
                raided til pointless                                                        ­  
by the desert fetching in on all sides
a verse far removed from its misplace in a longer work

Aug 2022 · 763
neth jones Aug 2022
humidity broke
a cooling pavement littered
with Cicada chaff
Haiku version of old Tanka
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