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4.8k · Aug 2018
Placard
neth jones Aug 2018
With a raffling breath
I sate death neatly
I am now in trust
Dead
And being played into new life
There's a swelling of new strifes
and wavings from within
Heats of organisms
Worlds accelerating
Pulsion
Gases waste and gases invitations
take place where I have been
A celebration
A bedding
If only The Humans would leave
the 'Dead Body' be
Just when I am finally achieved
They make a bother
I'll make out a doner card
No, a placard
"No Preservation Upon Death !
Corpse Rights Remain !"
4.2k · Dec 2022
senseless
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
report
neth jones Jul 2018
Hell shimmies when I am blunted ;
When I take a knock to the senses
When I am skinless,
singing stings
and misdirected by pain

If I had trained better
I'd be deep sea
Sussing distant messages
Operating with slight tremors, vocals and movement
and only when correct...
I'd be home
I'd be instrument

Not an act
Not a pet to society
No mood fool ;
flaked,
flooded
and littered
Rapped at by experiences
Attack reacting
An embarrassment
Watching my own pattern spooling
the same sums
and spoiling with repetition
3.6k · Oct 2018
War Chime
neth jones Oct 2018
It's always a criminal time to fight/
To fizz away our furies and our fears
in violent interactions within 'The Warrior Play'/
To unite in bouts/
Put personalities in liberty/
Releases
to bring about the death reaction

Untangled in all this
Is an eye/
a void/
It paces and turns
forgetful and lost ;
a powerless ghost and a witness
to these mad spoilings and energy fits/
This pinball of the battlefield
is catalyst ;
The untouched spirit of the weapon-head/
a war chime
and the thirst of all of us 'soldiers'

                 - in pattern & in population
3.4k · Nov 2015
A Response
neth jones Nov 2015
nothing flights these skies tonite
nothing burns above our heads
or crackles in the air
or glows in the houses about us
as we pace the cool and empty
the alleys and the meatless streets
and the clean scaleless cobbles
carry our patternless birch-bare feet
a sail less nite
but a kite to the imagination
a bringer of new
lighter beings
osmosis
through our faultless immigration




Previously published [Show Thieves 2010 : An Anthology Of Contemporary Montreal Poetry - 8TH HOUSE PUBLISHING]
3.2k · Dec 2022
[treat]
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        
.
3.0k · Mar 2016
Applying to Polute Society
neth jones Mar 2016
The hurdles I must *******
gauze against breath
within this gripe
of well patrolled
polite sobriety

What clarity can I operate ?

take a breath
expel a myth
pattern a thought
create an action
reset and repetitude
2.9k · Dec 2021
t i n t
neth jones Dec 2021
a heartness of light displays ;
in initial tinting
   the morning
        tipsy
dunked in the thirst
         from the passing night

unnecessary
the fight we experience
   in darkness seems

once exposed
wincing in the maturing sunlight
     a wedded weight is removed
[a heartness of light
scattershot through my peel
there was the warren of night
there was my overactive medicine whorl
then the cold roam of it
barely shared
seems so shallow
no-man and wide
lifted ; i part from darkness
the merciful hint of the morning]

[a heartness of light
beads the mongrel nature
of the sweating jungle
beds the bleeding
of clever trade
and foreign warfare
new growth
will always gloat over]
2.5k · May 2022
0001
neth jones May 2022
uncut grass
   casts long shadows by night
animated on the inside
   of our basement windows
elongating and dashing away
   projected by the passing traffic
no mow may (May 2021)
2.4k · Mar 2017
early curd
neth jones Mar 2017
foisting up at the strop of yawn
i remark,
impared
at the bluffers worn
it is kildy and capy
i'm underly mistaken
i plonder on my clothing
and part the towd ranglings
blind are the dawnings
it's still a mite
at four gone the night
and more a tune til the mourning
i am blowtard and sworn
i mumble back to kibble
and a mount full of scorn
Early morning nonsensica
2.4k · Nov 2022
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
10/11/22
2.4k · Mar 2022
000
neth jones Mar 2022
000
drowned and round again    
                                 in sick little circles
chopping at the bar
a round                            
                     and drown again    
                                            in little sickle stumbles
                   chopping wise at the bar                    
                                  with your wage crunched
                                   in one mitt
           and your obscenity
gripped
           in the other
MARK
2.4k · May 2022
011
neth jones May 2022
011
sunrise                                                      ­   ­                                       
first optic pins toe-tipping play across the meadow
wind bends the forrest fringe west away
the trees adverse to receive
priestly daylight
after all the  
    business        
    completed    
during a most
competitive and predatory
                                                   night
brevity homework - personification
2.4k · Nov 2021
a cultivation
neth jones Nov 2021
is it love
or the parasite ?

my pilot bulk                      
aims for relief
       it pursues this via                  
          your romantic correction

in public arena                  
a library stair                    
(i never prior encountered you)

one step as foreigner        
the approach
and upon a swift internal pendulum
i make witless incisions
hurried mended sentences
directed stuns
invasive
i demand the compromise
                  of your company
hastily push at boundaries and
you're not so accommodating

                                                 but
on a further occasion
same building
we exchange a battering of conversation
that
   then
       matures
           into barter-like use of language

despite my harassments
  a civil cultivation is unearthed
tongue within this intelligence effort i lessen
loosen my demanding appearance
disregard my dignity
     a skin suit about the ankles

you're open in a vein of similarity
   you flesh out your own controls
we've progressed quickly
there's an aped conduct
                 and flashing attitudes
this time we share table space
a nearby café

we have become quite unmanned
    repeated meet ups
upon humours we adjust small habits
    and shake on perceptions where we overlap
it becomes
   more an overlay of rationalities
        than resented promises

fast time passes and

i move into your living space                                  
i pick a wildflower                                                    
               and put it in the tiny vase on your dining table
we agree on its colour                                              
we agree on a book to make our bible material
we agree on the pitch of the tinnitus we share
the clothes i am to wear
i switch to your diet
and you cease taking medications
we sleep on your lawn like children
and bring down the night sky for comfort

during the day we wear our sleep
              like a lubrication for our chores
and go about our productivity
              in genuine partnership
yet
i feel we're just out of reach
            of some dark harm

we are an excellent sample pair
it is all vital
we grow stronger the more we quiz it
recycling our *******
refine our agreements
await further impulses
and come closer to plug

so..
do we please love
      or simply indulge a parasite ?
2.2k · Aug 2020
elegance
neth jones Aug 2020
heel to elegance
but don't let it stew in you
one detached glance up
from your stooped bow
and you'll see
2.1k · Sep 2022
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 Oct 2023
sometimes-(sometimes);
      i love you on the lips
moon garden
            paradise hills and november
and it's temple
  template of our own world of wild tales .. sometimes
sometimes twine
   sometimes silent running   sometimes engine purl
              under our dark star
     the wind rises ; blood and black lace
       the pace of our isle
              raw and in keeping
sometimes the lighthouse taps
blinking metronome and we use habits of coherence
and practicality and partnership

in some dark corners
alternatives
on another earth
seats an uninvited guest
viewing
(i feel.. sometimes)
moon garden/ paradise hills / november / wild tales / silent running / dark star / the wind rises / blood and black lace / isle / raw / the lighthouse / coherence / dark corners / another earth / uninvited guest /
2.0k · Jul 2018
Coal-Bitter-Heart-Tar
neth jones Jul 2018
[Disclaimer : Collection edited from previous works for the purpose of competition.]

Notes during Jane’s night out
and its afterbathe.


Observe :

when your heart's beating overtime
you drool poison in your sleep
and you're looking down
on this wound of slaughter
simply turn your head
and repress the urge
for mischief
mirth
and laughter

Jane’s prayer of control


Observe :

Deathlessness 
becomes my Oedipus
Restlessness, my Vein
I spy from the Windows
upon the Exterior ;
It's Humid, Night and Rain
I pave my Thoughts ; 
all bark and froth
I Pound Drinks
It Powers tight my Bellows
I Hound the Clock
My energy thrives out a fan of nerves
I create an idea of what's soon to be
A plan of posable culture
forms flossy in my Tide
and
(as the Night Out steps up)
It Bites firm in my mind

I stride across the threshold
Betraying nothing
Of the Savage I've put together
Slough Suited in neat Disguise.


Observe :

Raw Meat and Red Teeth
I'm a Bow to the Moon
I Click over Cobbles
A Mad Energy
Bailed in my Stomach
I Task Myself
Open
And Daring Prey to Cross the Tension
Strung on my Senses
All Hot Gut and Wire
I'm Playing at Being
A Wild and Mean Thing
And I am Dedicated to this Wound.


Observe Others :

The exclusive clubbers present their cards of invite
And go swiftly about the social wetwork 
Their practices and manners 
Interact and ply
Pulling teeth of the guises
Harvesting an inflammation of words
A baffle of tongue chorings 
There is an hour
There follow more
Whittling time
Taming code
Resorting to a little physical...
Then they take their leave ;
Prizes into the nights snare.


Observe My Racing Brain :

Let’s put Sleep to Death
And purify madness
We shall practice giddy boils of imagination
Bright
And quick lives could flare
Brief celebrities
Hastily added
To this new chattering evolution
There'd be little lung for morals
And sorrows would be swift experiments
Let's make all lives what they really are
Put Sleep to Death
And be recognized
As blurs
As shots 
As stars and spittings
Firing in this universe
This playground
This raw wash of activity


Observe my Near Miss :

gunbeat
memory fleeing ;
murrums over soils
stresses and seas
desaturation
my colourless meat
mind down
hasty retreat
coma tones
my last retreat
failing the game
and foul on my feet

but then spoiled warmth floods back
my sponge reforms
damaged
but re-soaked
current again


Observe Hospital Stay :

Talisman
Brighter than a new spawned sage
Appears to me.
Abyss-less
It lisps of rest
And passes me its clay.
Obedient
I foster a dent
And begin to draw my feed.


Observe my learning :

take a breath
expel a myth
pattern a thought
create an action
reset and repetitude


Observe a Single Step :

This is a Me
(hands indicate body that they are a part of)
A responsive sock of meats
flush with The Other
and stringy with Thinker

From The Other 
operations may be performed
Within this mix
a View dwells
this could be said
to be a Me

The Being makes
a physical step forward
A Me indicated that it ought to
and it did


Observing Spark Plug :

...and 'oh my God' did I cry
I sparked like I was made of knives
and it carried me
I was adopted
I was addressing reasoning
burying it fiercely and fare
pounding clay over it
and enhancing my surroundings
content
yet
without trust
re-start
welled and sad
sick excited
a primal plug 
connected
and this world had once seemed so borrowed, adolescent and unpracticed.
2019 competition version
a weathered brain              Jane’s night out

Observe my Control Prayer

when your heart's beating overtime
and you drool poison in your sleep
and you're looking down
on this wound of slaughter
simply turn your head
and repress the urge
for mischief
mirth
and laughter

Observe

Deathlessness 
becomes my Oedipus
Restlessness, my Vein
I spy from the Windows
upon the Exterior ;
It's Humid, Night and Rain
I pave my Thoughts ; 
all bark and froth
I Pound Drinks
It Powers tight my Bellows
I Hound the Clock
My energy thrives out a fan of nerves
I create an idea of what's soon to be
A plan of posable culture
forms flossy in my Tide
and
(as the Night Out steps up)
It Bites firm in my mind
I stride across the threshold
Betraying nothing
Of the Savage I've put together
Slough Suited in neat Disguise.

Raw Meat and Red Teeth
I'm a Bow to the Moon
I Click over Cobbles
A Mad Energy
Bailed in my Stomach
I Task Myself
Open
And Daring Prey
To Cross the Tension
Strung on my Senses
All Hot Gut and Wire
I'm Playing at Being
A Wild and Mean Thing
And I am Dedicated to this Wound.

Observing Others Socially

Any platter but this sick heat beating sink of interbeing
With its ******* music and rapid lighting
Exclusive clubbers present their cards of invite
Go swiftly about the social wetwork 
Their manners interact and ply
Pulling teeth of the guises
Harvesting an inflammation of words
A baffle of tongues choring
There is an hour
There follow more
Whittling time
Taming code
Resorting to a little physical...
Then they take their leave ;
Prizes into the nights snare.

Observe Racing Brain

Put Sleep to Death
And purify madness
We shall practice giddy boils of imagination
Bright
And quick lives flare
Brief celebrities
Hastily added
To this new chattering evolution
There'd be little lung for morals
And sorrows would be swift experiments
Let's make all lives what they really are
Put Sleep to Death
And be recognized
As blurs
Shots 
As stars and spittings
Firing in this universe
This playground
This raw wash of activity

Observe Overdose  

gunbeat
memory fleeing ;
murrums over soils
stresses and seas
desaturation
my colourless meat
mind down
hasty retreat
coma tones
my last retreat
failing the game
foul on my feet

but then spoiled warmth floods back
my sponge reforms
damaged
but re-soaked
current again

Observe Hospital

Talisman
Brighter than
A new spawned sage
Appears to me.

Abyss-less
It lisps of rest
And passes me its clay.

Obedient
I foster a dent
And begin to draw my feed.

Observe Lesson

take a breath
expel a myth
pattern a thought
create an action
reset
repeat

Observe Step

This is a Me
(hands indicate body
that they are a part of)
A responsive sock of meats
flush with The Other
and stringy with Thinker

From The Other 
operations may be performed
Within this mix
View dwells
this could be said
to be a Me

Being makes
a physical step forward
A Me indicated that it ought to
and it did

Observing Spark Plug

...and 'oh my God' did I cry
I sparked like I was made of knives
and it carried me
I was adopted
I was addressing reasoning
burying it fiercely and fare
pounding clay over it
and enhancing my surroundings
content
yet
without trust
re-start
welled and sad
sick excited
a primal plug 
connected
and this world had once seemed so borrowed, adolescent and unpracticed

I throw up.






a weathered brain

Jane’s night out




Observe my Control Prayer

when your heart's beating overtime
and you drool poison in your sleep
and you're looking down
on this wound of slaughter
simply turn your head
and repress the urge
for mischief
mirth
and laughter





Observe

Deathlessness 
becomes my Oedipus
Restlessness, my Vein
I spy from the Windows
upon the Exterior ;
It's Humid, Night and Rain
I pave my Thoughts ; 
all bark and froth
I Pound Drinks
It Powers tight my Bellows
I Hound the Clock
My energy thrives out a fan of nerves
I create an idea of what's soon to be
A plan of posable culture
forms flossy in my Tide
and
(as the Night Out steps up)
It Bites firm in my mind

I stride across the threshold
Betraying nothing
Of the Savage I've put together
Slough Suited in neat Disguise.

Raw Meat and Red Teeth
I'm a Bow to the Moon
I Click over Cobbles
A Mad Energy
Bailed in my Stomach
I Task Myself
Open
And Daring Prey
To Cross the Tension
Strung on my Senses
All Hot Gut and Wire
I'm Playing at Being
A Wild and Mean Thing
And I am Dedicated to this Wound.




Observing Others Socially

Any platter but this sick heat beating sink of interbeing
With its ******* music and rapid lighting
Exclusive clubbers present their cards of invite
Go swiftly about the social wetwork 
Their manners interact and ply
Pulling teeth of the guises
Harvesting an inflammation of words
A baffle of tongues choring
There is an hour
There follow more
Whittling time
Taming code
Resorting to a little physical...
Then they take their leave ;
Prizes into the nights snare.








Observe Racing Brain

Put Sleep to Death
And purify madness
We shall practice giddy boils of imagination
Bright
And quick lives flare
Brief celebrities
Hastily added
To this new chattering evolution
There'd be little lung for morals
And sorrows would be swift experiments
Let's make all lives what they really are
Put Sleep to Death
And be recognized
As blurs
Shots 
As stars and spittings
Firing in this universe
This playground
This raw wash of activity




Observe Overdose  

gunbeat
memory fleeing ;
murrums over soils
stresses and seas
desaturation
my colourless meat
mind down
hasty retreat
coma tones
my last retreat
failing the game
foul on my feet

but then spoiled warmth floods back
my sponge reforms
damaged
but re-soaked
current again



Observe Hospital

Talisman
Brighter than
A new spawned sage
Appears to me.

Abyss-less
It lisps of rest
And passes me its clay.

Obedient
I foster a dent
And begin to draw my feed.




Observe Lesson

take a breath
expel a myth
pattern a thought
create an action
reset
repeat


















Observe Step

This is a Me
(hands indicate body
that they are a part of)
A responsive sock of meats
flush with The Other
and stringy with Thinker

From The Other 
operations may be performed
Within this mix
View dwells
this could be said
to be a Me

Being makes
a physical step forward
A Me indicated that it ought to
and it did




Observing Spark Plug

...and 'oh my God' did I cry
I sparked like I was made of knives
and it carried me
I was adopted
I was addressing reasoning
burying it fiercely and fare
pounding clay over it
and enhancing my surroundings
content
yet
without trust
re-start
welled and sad
sick excited
a primal plug 
connected
and this world had once seemed so borrowed, adolescent and unpracticed

I throw up.
2.0k · Apr 2022
pin-pik
neth jones Apr 2022
we kip through all the ****** on the news
i left the device on a radio channal
  awoke to it burning up static and turned it off

silence as falcon overviews us
ultraviolet sight
  looking for neon spots and trails of *****
            markings that may betray the entrance of our dwelling

i put the kettle on

our voices are clayed
            by our
   confessing inner multitude
but they're recorded all the same

i pour a cup of tea

our pattern of submission
        is signal tweaked
maintainance by murmers
****** thorough
        through our glacial surrender

i take a sip

silence as
aided by the clear weather
   a drone nips out its choice targets

we were not selected
neither us or any neighbour
but far away ;
a story heard on the device
1.9k · May 2021
...........thread...........
neth jones May 2021
..............there’s such a clamour
         so much choring
    memory thread
I sit
armchair
rocking head
receiver of motion
    bleaker of putty trauma
                creator of mammary craving

.....best take up knitting or wood carving

the fortress of thought
(in strict connivance with a bewildered host)
compiles the 'person idea'
protects the fragile calculator
               from biting at its own exposed
                  and useless self mating psychology
               from glutting on its own tail 
                   and merry going mad
                        in a tune of hoops...

..stammering to achieve valuation

for our decent management
projector
may you continue operations falser still
defeating our own polygraphs and making fools of our internal courtrooms

i sit on this chair
things go still
thoughts occur elsewhere
am i left to not be ?....................
[no rocking horse
conveyer belt
tank tread
rock rearward and forth
the thinker and the head]
1.9k · Dec 2021
tack
neth jones Dec 2021
abused aromas
fuse the dwelling
throats slacken and tighten
good cooking can make a home
a rooted clut of tallow

home
         sweaty home
ignite another cigarette
scrape a fingernail on the sofa
a white grippy trail
scrunch your toes in the deep greasy carpet
and salivate on the wender of smoke
from the cooking of the roast
1.8k · Aug 2018
Untitled
neth jones Aug 2018
My weapon is voice today
'tis careless
a spell amoungst curs
it puts close friends in their places
and worried
(behind my back)
It kisses with mischeif
and muddies stray-fully

My weapon is played
a trial
a tool
to bring about my isolation
Then i may exit without notice
and unfollowed
a relief, in release

My real work shall begin abroad
1.7k · Feb 2023
jetsam
neth jones Feb 2023
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
1.7k · Jul 2019
Balloon
neth jones Jul 2019


There are six ways to die on my table top

There are four ways to get lost in my cupboard

There are seven men drowning in my bottom drawer

There’s a coma above the ceiling fan

and an incinerator under my covers


Under the bed is a mouse trap

In the sink is a death trap

In the gap between the walls

is the most appalling noise

and my radio produces

only the frantic breaths of fitness breeders


The tortured hide under my pillow

(though they belong in my ears)

The glass in the window is made

of the slowest distorting tears

(I never produced them)


The carpet covers my blood

My clothes are covered in sod

The wallpaper hides my dreams

and my dreams have spilled at the seams

I collect masks that are the person I hid

Where do I sit ?

The door is a lid

The room is too warm

Enclosed

An expanding balloon
Nearly twenty year old poem. Minor changes made.
1.7k · Nov 2021
0110
neth jones Nov 2021
vented clouds
form a mackerel skin sky
implanted chill
fills out
from a marrow ache
to the human exterior

i walk under the sky
porous to it all
connected by the cold
Autumn
1.6k · Nov 2021
matted
neth jones Nov 2021
illumination                        

     the sun rungs fears
     pusher of its inquiry
     ringer in of chore
     and civil obligation

dissolving this days events              
jonesing for the eve                           
    when poaching the social solution
will bait me into the night snare
1.6k · Sep 2023
11000
neth jones Sep 2023
cold breeze
the ticking heat off a parked car
has summer resigned ?
summer 23
no.9
haiku style
27/08/23
1.6k · Jun 2023
crawl
neth jones Jun 2023
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
        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
1.6k · Jul 2022
cower
neth jones Jul 2022
wolf ,
         can you land meat ?
            or are busy being needlessly cruel to 'lesser' peers ?
could you even take a basic stalk about the woods ?
            or would you be blistered
               breaking in those brand new pricy walking boots ?
a full moon ?
   maybe you'd drink to excess on those nights ?
   maybe pick a fight or beat on your loved ones
                                   but whimper the next day ?

that smart suit ?
ridiculous over your fur
heard you're on a trendy fad diet
you fidget at your desk
you fidget on your screen
work is obscenely wasteful
distractions are just plain obscene
you are a coward to your soul
soiled by domestic inactivity
1.6k · May 2022
00000 01
neth jones May 2022
summer sky aloft
a massive cloud bank disbands
      lacing into gills
wind huffs make spastic punches
cooling my agitation
1.6k · Mar 2022
t e e t h
neth jones Mar 2022
busy verbalizing my merchandise                                                      ­        
a display of teeth reefed behind my smile
                                                      becau­se merchandise is what i am after
                          and The Revels watch over me
                                and laughter drains down through sewer grates
i am watched over                                                             ­                             
my potential client walks away                                                                 
    but returns again with queries                                                          ­             
on this hot day                                                              ­                                   
a smell like burnt hair raises from the gutters                                            
and these are the streets that radiate                                                          ­  
on this hot day                    

an honest clash and not some some touchy bout
and here we are                                                              ­
the costly coil of pushing business together ;           
                                   a lively thrive
thrifty "*******"s and a dressing down       
circling the other and striking their buttons   
  
                   interlaced within is a genuine pressing
               toward each other goals  
this partnership                                                      ­                    
swiftly made                    
                                          has an extreme edge and chaotic balance          
the both of us must master or abandon our productivity             
shall we be served by this union
                                     or sever fighting ?

unfit                                                         ­            
  it swerves and suffers a pity                  
let's keep this one brief                                                     
we manage business
handshakes
and scowl away with our wares
each of us feeling equally scammed
(we've made useful enemies at best)

i break out laughing all the same-how
and howl because i feel
that feeling that this could go on forever
and business has roots in all my moods

i crouch at the curb       
the curb is abrasive               
              i sit
i look at the dry heat radiating off the tarmac
the slight greasy lime taste of the air passing
the roof of my mouth
the electric wires running hum into the buildings
the storm drains at the edges of the roads
where laughter siphons down to the magma of Hades

it is waning off now                         
and i feel vague
i stand and i scan for more players
i spot a vivid orange one
one that i may barter their aura of vigour
traded for my sketchy wares
neth jones Jun 2022
Man enters the tavern                            
Claps down some cash and outbursts ;
                                                       'Thirsty Things Firstly !'
The barman evaluates his condition      
And provides a session brew

Man tilts toward potential company
(a ferrety bloke in the shadows)
"Pull up that stack of milk crates        
                 And halve a heart with me"
(he earns a quick friend                      
                         in a tolerant stranger)

Soon fellow gaspers fill out the gloom
And an eve of humour descends
Though soon upending
Gourds downed the gullet
Sunk ugly into the scene
The tippling wit drags the night
              to the Slurry Pit

things turn Psychologically Rugged
his Mates soon round on him
bulldozing at the Elbows
saying he's a Cheapskate
they Berate him with rigorous Rattleprat
he's been goated with the Cain's mark
they tousle his crown malicious
Thorough in his cups and eaves
he mumbles and leaves
heaving up bile words
unheard              
gurgle
over
his
shoulder

outside is dark and harsh
Outside the whole wild world does wail and weary
drunkenly
he sings to match its melancholy
but sadness lifts with his altered view
he sees 'a flock of moons' weigh down the sky
and natures churn                                    
                     makes a phosphorescent stew of it all
... decay                        
                 to lifes' celebration
'to see a flock of moons' is an old saying meaning drunk

USES PARTS FROM PREVIOUS POEMS

decay to life (first part)

the scentless winter over
snow melts            
evacuates into the ground                        
                   under Spings attention

Springs arrival elevates mood
alleviates the heart halved by Winter

our strained eyes are relieved
                                  with the dismissal
of reflective snows

'thirsty things firstly' ;
from the groundswell and sponge
the air is steeped with earth ;
decay to life
1.6k · Jan 2023
b r i n k
neth jones Jan 2023
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
1.5k · Sep 2022
charity warren
neth jones Sep 2022
distress men
distress women     the children follow suit
rooted        to their calculation
   pick-pitted-
                 minds-eye-
                             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

assess
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
faulty
worthy of mention
the soiled spell
         going to drown though the generations
recreation
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
1.5k · Mar 2022
busk runt
neth jones Mar 2022
The great gaudy flage is screamin' blood in the streets
                                          loose yawn of a gob on him
                                              all bombast n' swagger
he makes a barrage of nuisance
     channels through the public
         and scatters a juggler's performance spot
                  lobs away his change hat
then, roughly over the cobbles  
                                        he hoicks a resuscitation doll
         and stamps down a posing boot
                                                 on the 'defeated form'

an unprepared scoop of tourists
a pause for silence and begins a rant
a great performance
of well harassed combustion :

"i smear to god all the phalluses
      [he roars, all saliva]
i smug to god
             a full jug of uglies
tug on       [makes the hand gesture for male *******]
i **** off the forger
would slug it in the mug
                          if it ever did form a tissue oath
took a plug at some drunk straggler
called the baffled *** 'god-father'
            and spate spume on his fallen anatomy
[with one hand he indicates the mannequin at his heel]
       amen ******* !"

he bows
a long quiet
some people clap awkwardly
two police officers appear and hook him by the elbows
(it has been this show before)
1.5k · Oct 2021
i cut out my tongue
neth jones Oct 2021
absent of the weight ;          
                my baited tongue, silenced                                  
lonely,
            by incision  

cut loose of my deviant given powers
i view the sporting world ;
new void cavities
         going about writhe tasks
                             of peculiar fathom

i train to cast bane                  
                  without word
wicked slight
a rupturing guesture
in place of a verbal spell
1.5k · Mar 2023
00001
neth jones Mar 2023
sleight of hand season
will not be reasoned with
brumal upheaval
winter - February - 2023
1.5k · Nov 2015
Hibernation once again...
neth jones Nov 2015
When I passed into hibernation
My tastes began to sour
Birds of prey
And emergency vehicles seemed to attend

It's for medicinal purposes
I'm in hibernation again
For it's that time of year
I've left my blood under soup skin
And my mind's in books and pieces

Winter passes

Perhaps time to take on life once again
And the disease-beats in between ?

The seasonal change excites me
My heart beat increases
And returns to normal
My breathing quickens
My blood wakes me

The seasonal change excites me
My feet were turning black
My eyes were folded heavy
Now I'm flowing back
Victory !

My blood likes my limbs now
And I take in moisture through the skin
I lick my lips for the sensation
And my thought tilts with sin

I stretch to my full height
...but cramp up :
Hey !
This doesn't belong !

This is muffled
This is unsane !
I excercise my muscles
Then shrink back in pain
It's not meant to be ...
Hibernation once again.



Previously published [Show Thieves 2010 : An Anthology Of Contemporary Montreal Poetry - 8TH HOUSE PUBLISHING]
1.5k · Dec 2022
01 101
neth jones Dec 2022
granule
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
1.5k · Apr 2022
1
neth jones Apr 2022
1
drown in the dark
            cleansed of all vital signs  ; great relief
cold fish dreamed a thrill
        drowning in the great salivation
           a deoxygenated chill of perish
vote free the sponge of your formation
give to the new life that can fend
                                           fed off of your spoil
a greater survivor in this stern habitat
                can carry on your energy and wealth
MARK
1.4k · Sep 2023
black tie attire
neth jones Sep 2023
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
1.4k · Sep 2022
swelter
neth jones Sep 2022
morning
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
          antsy
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
1.4k · Mar 2023
00000
neth jones Mar 2023
molded ***** sky
broody welling grey udders
rain to be cast or snow ?
winter - February - 2023
1.4k · Nov 2015
Tupperware
neth jones Nov 2015
Little by Little
He softened in the Head
He drank from his own Spittle
Stored in Jars
Under the Bed
He said Daily Prayers
And waited for The Girl
But Drowned in his own Pale *****
Then Stiffened
In a Curl








© Jon Thenes 2005
1.4k · Aug 2023
the murder tree
neth jones Aug 2023
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
  murderer
  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
and
  humiliated    
             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
eavesdropping   
        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'
1.4k · Aug 2022
limes
neth jones Aug 2022
and you smile so ungimmickly
and the smile fires extensions from both sides
like speed record cars     across flat heat distorted desert
and i know    we're up to no good tonite
08/07/22
1.4k · Mar 2022
00001 01
neth jones Mar 2022
combined effort
      moonlight, trees, autumn breeze
  form bobbing shadows
a humorous theatre
     mocks my solitary mood
Notes For 00001 01... made into a poem

looning

moon lumin with the breeze
cutting out uglies
cookie dough shadows
wailing hands in the trees
leaves clipped from the earth
cursed in rebirth before the projector
recurring all this wit and tangle
strangulates my solitary mood
and pensive strides
breaks my face into mirth
mad-mad impractical and inefficient
life complimenting simian laughter

MARK (poem)
MARK (notes)
1.4k · Jan 2023
meddling
neth jones Jan 2023
blushes
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
inks
i wink   faithfully lacy    into the universe    pirouettes and eddies
tinkering
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
15/12/22
written for a 'picture prompt' competition. the picture was a painting of a human face made of galaxy swirls and outer space features.
1.3k · Mar 2023
10000
neth jones Mar 2023
muddied skies muffle
clarity that was winter
season blots
winter - February - 2023
1.3k · May 2022
1001
neth jones May 2022
scurry
out of its' tree
a squirrel in the rain
runs low                      
                  just like a rat
cuts across the concrete
manic for something
out of its tree
scurry
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