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neth jones May 2020
come out of your grief
there's no crime in life ;
this signature
        these beliefs

you'll be sought out
           by the weave in your manner        
found you chasing a hollow banner
show us all                    
           a snapshot of your soul


there's no sleight of hand
just your self divorce
welcome to design

chalk it up to our crude behaviour
can't sanitize mother nature
feed us all
         the habits of your soul


wasted time
              entombed in your glamour
clapping in delight
                      camera chronicles
out go the lights
                    and out goes the kindness too
so mad at the way you're treated          
so ugly as the pressure beats you down
hand us over              
the very shame of your soul


let us know your final decision
sat flickering                
            before your television
grant us access        
to your broken soul
address your face in the mirror            
ask it's advice like you are its wearer
let us in                                        
the burrow of your soul
fess up                                            
             the officials have the room
open wide                                      
and humanize your role
we
   shall
clock
the
degradation
   of
  your
wilted soul
no folding time in a holding cell
neth jones Sep 2019
We lay
as gloves
each a leisured hand
ingested by the other

Pleasure teeming
unweaned
and weak for the feed

Keening to pray continue
we lay down
to play some more
neth jones Jul 2019

#1

I’m no good at merrymaking
I do it alone
I do it dark
And I go at it with rabid excess
I am fellow to it
Until morning
And I make the morning hurt
A mark is embed


#2

Amoungst great company
I am dog unwanted
In the comapany of one
I am villain bird
I am influence
I hit a drinking partner in the weak knees of weak truths
And things go madly south
But tonite I am alone
As I ought
And not sought out


#3

Astray from the fireside
Into the woods
In the territory
Where I fear to thread the pathways
I shall recover my work
In the graven woodland
I shall face myself down
And bed darkness
Where I am truely wed


#4

Thriving and well hausted
I strain and clamp upon the energy
I face my enemy
My power
I bide from his readings
I make ****** pleasings
Form verbal greeting
And extend a hand
For this
The first of many a meeting


#5

Upon this connection
This Faustian reflection
I make the primal
The woe in me
And the red wash of ravenous pages
My activity
My moulded tool
My rage
My howl against creativity
kin
neth jones Oct 2019
kin
kinder to kidnap

expand on the family

to have crime in bind
inspired by movie : Shoplifters
Anti Haiku
neth jones Jun 2019
tied to your family
through exchanges of damage
how can you manage life
with the tether of the holidays ?

back in the vicinity
back in the fond
the fold of abusement
held warm
by secretious exchange

imbibe

care of mottled re-riggings
of tried over memories
re-rung in company
to be loudly agreed upon
again and again and again...

back with family
fellow obscenities
bellows
Not my family experience, but an impression felt when friends reluctantly leave town to visit families for reunions, holidays, funerals, weddings, e.t.c...
neth jones Jan 2020
I call for Blood Design
  escape ; the **** way
unfurious Spirit
  and energetic push
accelerating
  to ****** a Lance
    through the Workings of it all
Spoil the Big Idea
  the Swelling
be the Pesky Anomaly
  that Unclips the Scientists
    from their God Peg
Leave a Haunting Stain
  on the Fresh Lab Coat
altered version of previous
neth jones Nov 2017
here we are
wiffs and flavours
readings for life ;
rotting
weaping
daring and musing
tentacle tips
flinches
impulse ;
charge
to the senses
of a greater being.
neth jones Sep 2019
let no trust in self

trust people to be themselves

be unrewarded
neth jones Mar 13
come back alive
  no shade
     no dark sleek  over your own boxed remains
report in     to your family
we'll remove the war from your shoulder
hook up the soldier costume on our hallway peg
return the memory of life to you
we hope we can offer this ..

      ..but we’ve heard tumorous stories
        that   to the war boy returned
                      life   no longer does stick
neth jones Jun 2022
while building static warmth
  unbiased night has nurtured strain
now! ;
  breaks akimbo in filling veins
  silver branches
  lipping open flare across the sky
stimulated charge raised
  through our earthed souls
  greeting heavens kindle above
Brevity Homework 2
neth jones Aug 2020
all of this
    is addled
all of this is tamed
    behind clothed eyes...

Persists a sable seascape
            flotsam is cerebrum
   vast
a featureless osmotic cathedral
  distant of all
a sense deposed vault
        of the heavens muggy other

I am formation
   the information
         and I am blip within

a wink
Attention!
   notice from the euphoria
a gloss eye like obsidian
   perched
   alter praised pedestal
   lustcheivous spire
   with a height for a sky burial
   limpetted with devilish bloats

fractured
then it actions
                 lighthouse blinks ;
warm claps of welcome dishonesty
drum pats
              of a restorative oblivion
                                             escalate

in the other place
my bodies face
                   plates a smile
my body
      a slack slap of meat
         on a ***** clothes heap
my bodies head
                the vices lapsed child

back in the gourdular cavern the bloats loosen
and slip down spire into the sable conducting liquid
neth jones Mar 2022
begin the day ; a **** taught of features
in need of clean linen,
    unswallowable meds
    and a diaper change
routine ; that'll teach ya !

they ask her the day of the week
   her name
what year it is
   when is your birthday ?
do you feel any pain ?
   do you know where you are ?

flailing in memory
they just turn off the overheads
  and let her settle into her senility
attend to the physical basics
whilst she's suckered into her own storage unit
  operating like a humming fridge
   with its door slight ajar
    and the small hot bulb
     finking on and winking off

                      - perish well 
                       & in comfort Dear
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
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

nourish

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
ALT VERSION

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
neth jones Nov 2020
a short ways from town
and our species ceases
nature has the lay
the landscape is not our charge
relief
i recover an empty beer bottle
amongst some frosty sedge
neth jones Aug 2019
Self Sickening Species

Title
The Human Craving

The Gummy Decay
We Favour For Our Mortar

Our Truth-less
Mated
Clunny Actions

Sweet Tooth
We Solder On
Feening
Indulging Our Senses
Till Everything Is Flavourless
Thank you...one of you guys ...for introducing me to the word ‘feening’
neth jones Dec 2023
clipping a trail
  through the un-mown grasses of prehistory
i am reduced and nuded 
  by the buoyant vat   of sky baby blue

the grasses seed the heels of my work clogs
spiking sensory jabs through my socks
      a shy petting of pain

with the prow of my stride
  tiny residents vault scut and flutter
neatly evading   un panicked

radiating wet heat raises to my waist
i stop my destructive wading
i am slit, vulnerable and fed
i am primitive and free
i have membership
my uniform   banished

i take in a humid breath

about face
       and the illusions are switched
the buildings icon dominates
       and draws my responsibility
i can smile at the wash of life
       and reinstate myself in paid labour
28/08/23
neth jones Apr 2019
‘****** is Meat’;
The Victorious Say
as the Spoilings of War
are tilled over in a Latrine
Gore-Flowers shall overthrow
and the next Eden Project is fed :
a Beacon for The Lovers to uncover
....and disregard
    ungratfully fertile
neth jones Oct 2020
(#16)

May Day at dusk
flittermice take flight from the eaves
flirty thoughts freed
swift pacing of my heart
when passing me you smiled
neth jones Nov 2018
All Worlds are Made Up Worlds
Herring gulls and tourist boards
and the pleats of portrayal
All things are treats to the senses
communication in bleats and bloats
and we make scientific entries
We soak out each other
uncreating the darkness
webbing out fractures
with our blue markers
All for the idea of sharing
A shared world
but don't forget
that it is just an idea
All worlds are made up worlds
caring tides and caddisfly
and the teats of the new revival
the breaking of bread
the friction in bed
and meat for our survival
it's been cold out for days
but brighter than an eyeful
care of what's underfoot
crawl to prevent the sky fall
a witch reaches us and we do as we are scolded
we believe now
in gossip told and not in what we hold
All worlds are made up worlds
and that's all that we have time for...
neth jones Sep 2019
Cancer of the Tooth & Lung
Cancer of the Lips & Tongue
Cancer of the Cheeks & Gum
Cancer collects under the Skin
& Numb
Cancer ; Fingertips & Thumb
Cancer spreads
Cancer on my Mind
& Dumb

Cancer greases your thinning Hair
Cancer ; the Features you select to Wear
Cancer subtracts the light from your Eyes
Cancer swells your pinkening grey Heart
Cancer in your Thought and Barking
Cancer Glows ;
Ever Phosphorus
In your Dark

Cancer ; what’s the Matter ?
Cancer ; where is my Head ?
Cancer in our Bicker
Cancer ; I’m drying Blind
Cancer on tap
& extra Cancer ...

Cancer from You to Me
Cancer won’t leave us be
Cancer from Me to You
Cancer confirms every Act we do
Cancer ; when we stay up late
Cancer Cultivates our Relation
whilst we Canker in Snared Hatred
About fifteen years old. Some changes and corrections made from the original.
neth jones Nov 2018
You kissed me with mangy thirst
A mystery to me

You seemed so hurt tonite
and wanting of other places
any social platter but this sick hot beating sink of inter being with its ******* music and rapid lighting and... you turned to me and I am polite and kissed you back.

I am the 'shrug at life' choice
but there's heart in that as a moment
neth jones Mar 13
dead friends on the mantelpiece
to scripture over our lives
salivate and dictate from the sidelines
        - as i grow a family -
they become hidden behind a build up
                            of favourite greeting cards
                  too pretty to let go of
neth jones Feb 2020
Marvin
The Narwal
Warbles
Marbles

The Warbling Narwal
She is called
Marvin
She Warbles her Marbles
in a Manner
most Marvellous

Marvel upon Marvin
Her Marbles are Marvellous
She Warbles them
in a Fashion
that only a Narwal can Warble
amusing vocals, distortions and alterations required in a reading
neth jones Jul 2019
Marble
Warrrbol
Marble
(warble)
marble-warble
WHARBALLLL
MHARBALLLL
warble
marble-marble...
Variations can be made on the fly according to mood and individual
neth jones Jul 2021
the sleeper...

riled in slumber
         her face fevered
     cussed about the terrain
                                     of a floral breeding
  bedding patterns and the print
                                        bunched in struggles
in smudges
                     an amateur trial with sisters makeup
     primal cosmetics
            make a mock
                    daubed
                                ceremony for slumber

dusty and museum are her dollworks
        an amphitheatre audience
                                 overlooming her berth
    flaunting the gallery shelves
                sustained expressionist menace
Roman eyes and Victorian ridicule
stuffed suffering with Ugly Duckling down
****** sawdust and your sullied label
they bray and they brawl
         and they sluice their gull gall
    a sick drizzle
       over the sleepers form

   from the exterior
  wild wails the weather
its being
     drubbing
  peers fragile
at the windowpane
a raid on this vulnerable sleeper
impounded in bedroom aloft
raised to meet the jet stream

she is fumbled in dreams...

  abraded adolescent swells
judder out figments
  a bleed of vandals
     siling her muted childhood
       parading the playground
          berating old
         once loved playthings
       adopting no sympathy
    adapting in favour
      of the wild riding will
        of the direful pre familiar

into the woods...

a ***** charmed breath
       dressed smartly as boy
stoppers her pathway
       insisting a gentleman's assistance
frustrates her recitations
      of grandmothers doting
           stern teachings
         like fragile pottery
            come to harm
         broken into teeth
the quick blood beating
       this nocturnal forest
     busy in heat
      bonding death
       to refract the hustling moon

a company of wolves
    fill out the clearing
not a spell too soon
their howls reverberate
             jeering
mocking their new glut
sifting followers
      from the raggle-taggle array of fools
the foolish dreamers
          rounded up
amongst them she stands
red dressed and nervous
one hand clasping
                  and sexing the other

fortified
a great jaw operates here
an excited irresponsible mastication
committed to this fairytale

...agitation in her sleep
Inspired by the movie version of The Company Of Wolves

Sile = Strain OR filter
neth jones Jun 2023
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

sporting,
           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
        vanished

       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
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
neth jones Oct 2019
genial words like ‘Trickle’
and butter words like ‘****’
runny
cussing out a flow

walk with a tremble
the street is charged
a fear-ish plush ug
the top of your spine
and the back of throat
feel awful and close
...but it’s just a feeling
and ‘words’ are simply ‘words’
med
neth jones Jun 2021
med
sully the mental stationary
process the progress
slurry
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.
neth jones Jul 2019
-

‘you’re the only hell that I’m gonna know’

i pledge this with spears/

i greet me

goodbye of you

and approach my new interaction

with life-path,

a heaven in preproduction...

but a few steps on the road

i’ve a bone to discover...

                                                   ...i recover and cultivate

                                                   a little hellscape

                                                   that travelled within me all this time/

                                                   in some form or another

                                                   it seems i owe you

                                                   an apology/

                                                   i also harbour an imp and

                                                   without the dominance of your
                              
                             ­                      raging villain

                                                   my brute loosened from it's domesticity

                                                  /that said

                                                   you still remain

                                                   my significant

                                                   past tense

                                                   abuser
neth jones Nov 2015
FADE IN :


                   Open Casting

Medulla Dentata ;
The Marrow Of The Matter
The Teething Of The Day
A Whittle In The Pathway
A Meander In The Pattern
But An Anchor Within The Stray

Both A Complex Labyrinth
And Baby's First Rattle
In Oceans I Lay ;
Medulla Dentata

                   Patter Root


                                         FADE OUT


© Jon Thenes 2015
neth jones Dec 2023
blood                                                  
blood patter and splash                            
leads us         concrete toward
tracing back        til the scene        
i’ve flashing thoughts of the brutality
   the violence     that must of cussed  
  between persons            
         in fear    fray    and inebriation

down the steps                                     
            my four year old child and I go          
the greasing bleed     in bronze putters  
growing and leadening
on stone labours

glowing citrus    the refrigeration
                          of the underpass
          ‘flips the bird'   at the summer blaze
grey dead coral bricks of urination  
seasoned in deep   beading now cold
the broke up weapon                        
                   candy slates of brittle teeth
glass / bottle / beer /brown
    the neck its' hilt              
     and the main mud of the bleeding

the flies are the thing                                
                         th­at bothers my ‘little nipper’
usually a flapper of queries on repetition
no other queries are raised
     just eager for the vibration
      of train carriages gatling over our heads

i stopper any words i may have on the matter
  he holds my hand with his hot hand
we progress under a port arms                                   
                            procession of caged floodlights
      and walled in by fresh graffiti
fingers dripping   retching for the guttering
Observed 23/06/23

unused -

on thickened walls      painted on over and over
by the neighbourhood watch
a  narrowed burrow
neth jones Mar 14
I feel so much              it’s just like good movies
hard hurt  romance and rescue               
         rage  and ostracization
it's them  it is witty they     the horn spittled gitty devils!           
they've pitted faults in my structure
                                                        to feel through
my dermis            tup-tapped and stabbed at                
    quaking ***** little jokes   at my impractical existence
i am made spongiform                     vulnerable pupation    
frogspawn                                    
      mangy food at mercy  ...

...and my pratty employment...

...but it's okay now
enamel              
i'm desensitized to it all                
         distant to the proceedings
the quirky murky readings
                   then again   sudden barks get through
jarring feedings                        
            and i am rushed with expense ...
... for a while

mused chemistry
my worth feels    peopled and oxygenated
my work cradles balanced appeal                  
creation is warm          with budgings of whim
simple commerce   with the ghosts of physical laws
                                     and a birling alchemy
neth jones May 2021
Retreading the same creative subjects
Rebedding headaches
                                  Pedalo
Some discomfort
Clung all over
          with a fungal dampness
          And moored with a heavy sleep-like coat
Worthy of nothing
Nothing worthy of note
Pages

Consumed by rehearse
I've lost the thirst to broadcast
Cowardly in delay
Relaying what's past
..... a Recurrent distress

I stand sudden :
Done !
I derail the trolley-lot ...

Then I fit
In a mirthquake
         I laugh like i am made of bellies
'The Bellycake', I'll call me.

With my serious anchorous state nulled
I approach fresh work with good humour
(Teen Hamlet in decay)
mip
neth jones Nov 2019
mip
lazy mankindness

free play for the inhuman

prattlefeild of fame
anti haiku
neth jones May 16
.

i wake before the others                                                     
                                          betraying the family bed
conduct domestic procedure                                 
         (the sun has yet to rise and punish)
the rooms are illuminated       with the city dim
   projected from streetlight in
a dossing grain of orange                        
                   wiltered by the sheets          
 we use to cower our windows
 
in this near light i go to spread a morning meal
a tray of fruit, yogurt and breakfast biscuits
i bring it too our low living room table
but Abrupt !                                                            
   ­    there is a form   occupying the table

i scout for a spot to place my wares                            
put the tray / direct contact / the floor
                         and make a closer examination
on the table                                                            ­        
it is a soldier boy       simple      life spent out

this warrants artificial light                                      
i pull the cord on the corner lamp                      
   in a glimpse of eyes the bulb pops dead
               i know i won't meet result this way
its a brain pattern going on  i determine        
   and remove shrouding from a street view
orange wash lends  to the olive uniform
both hands hitched                                                
to his webbing   in the middle of his chest
helmet discomforts  his head turned to a side
eyes yelling a relaxed nothing                  
no surprise to his ****** features
boots that haven't even made mud yet
this is clean    but   for the blood reduction
a syrup for his presentation
no fooling  and there is.. the gun                          

the child in me and the child in him want it
he makes seventeen at most
and it is now i feel
when i see the device

war oversees
makes international the weather
neth jones Sep 2019
This generation knows only darkness
and sleeps on its back

the sleeper windmills violence in upon
it’s own sensory plate
                                       (the turbulence of
                                        fit-fusion
           ­                             and shapeless
                                        mood based dreams)

                
protest whine

offence

a life less of assurance
awaiting instruction

bore
froth
tend
endurance

Days are no fun
played out underground

A Mole baring task-force
A clunder

Muscle beings
reading the darkness

              

Tales held of the higher plane
an existence firm upon the roof terrain

Once a thriving insistence
ocular culture and unpushed air

This is what came to the generation
of post surface availability

              

The Moles are quaked
they raise in hunch
reach out for their boots and tools
begin the awake shift
Notes of The Post Apocalyptic Underground
neth jones Dec 2023
the cat inhabits the kitchen chair
  glibly being   a warm and spread pat
as my seat is taken      i am stood
  weight shifting   between pained legs
    taking in my breakfast   like medicine
chumming it down
  addressing none of its flavours or ‘mouthfeel’

a man passes the window
uncreased  in a deceased business suit
yet   bunched into himself under a brolly

it's not raining
      but   it was  most-likely  forecast on his cellphone

strange human behaviour…

i note my own
and remove the somnolent cat
to take my seat at the table
theres's me
in battle against my own healthy design
no way to approach a day
iffy from  laborious digestion
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 /
neth jones Nov 2021
They recklessly mowed the grass everywhere
Cropped the lot !
(The city council landscapers)
  No verge
        park or public plot
             is left any freedom
                   in its fertility

misdeed

With no places remaining
          no long radiating grasses
                 for quality summer fornication
retreats must be made instead
                  to the usual abandoned properties
                             and construction sites

Giddy romantic tangles are given over
in their place
rutting animals
quick shameful *****
                     graffiti tagged
                               ***** soaked
                            damaged concrete
                      exposed hazardous detritus
                 damp, rust, broken glass and mutty
Absent are the breeding meadows of the gods
this year is no span of leisure
this year is smutted
mid summer
neth jones Sep 2020
i snail in your wake
a ringing skim of perforations and pikes
   taking readings

your signals
         manage agitated faults in me
       leased opiates
and a sensory quake

you dropped a hair tie
i form limb-like mucous spits
i join them on the far side of the object
   membrane surrounds and i engulf the collected

this       is       much       encouragement
i may increase my demands of you

i trail after you still
   sensitive to the tokens of love
       you patter behind for me
sensitive to the coding
       in the minute alterations you make
                                    of your daily routine
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
neth jones Jun 2019
We meet at the Museum
hours after it has closed
Dressed - Impress
- Costume ;
All of our Art exposed

We'll feast upon The Security
the mousetrap
and The Ghost
We'll chew upon the wiring
We're the party
guests
and host

                                             - a child in love
#1 Silly-silly / Set Siren to our Prances / Petty Chime to our Dancing Vice / It would make a Tabloid Musical #3 Silly-silly / I wish to take you grotesque places / We’ll wear our masks over nasty faces / For now my immersion lies in cruelty / Of the results I shall form the most lavish jewellery / Together we’ll master a theatre of tomfoolery / I am most grateful for jest / Your breath / And / Above all / Your company.              
- a child in love
neth jones Aug 21
calm as an ironing board / stressed as the walls
foreign as an enemy / familiar as the enemy
                   music knows no enemies
reigned as a god / resigned as most of the dead
    rewarded as a child /pell-mell as egg shell
vile as only myself
shelf-life   of a plucked fruit gone untreated
weening mental state   of the recently unteated
soft as sputum / rooted as generations of defeat
               prattling  like we'll never have our fill
                                          riddled as an ant hill
neth jones Oct 2021
I see a lot of Night Moths by day
                                            this year
they battle along
ground level contours
they risk powdered tissue wings
whapping against your person
I question their mission
and wonder what cause
would be worth
such perilous behaviour ?

            

Spider descends on a fresh thread
new project ?
Changes its mind
re-spools itself

             *


autumn sun and breeze
weeds fringing a vacant lot
settling quiet in me

            


i stop
rabbit is still
rabbit blinks
agreeing to run away
i step and rabbit runs

             *


Birds grounding themselves
energy conservation for Winter ?
they feign at being flightless
and eat ground level berries
neth jones Nov 2015
memory murrums over soils
sands
sowd
stresses
and seas

gunbeat
my memory fleeing
desaturation
my colourless meat
mind down
a hasty retreat
coma tones
my last retreat
failing the game
and foul on my feet

but then spoiled warmth floods back
and my sponge reforms
damaged
but resoaked
current again



© Jon Thenes 2011
neth jones Apr 2021
arts great salivation
       teats nightly
acts the thistle
       at this little establishment

   collude here :

* fierce nourishment
* jester
* rumpus of competition
* ...much goad
  in a fester of seemly company
neth jones Aug 2019
i want to smell of smoke again

i want to breathe and choke again

i’m tired

i want to drink and weep ink again

i want to cut at my temple
with the thinnest of paper
or the sharpest of tin
to reveal all the species
i hide from myself

i want to pull at her white-like hair
from the plugs in her fatty scalp
and toast a new age
of no sticks
no stones
no mourning backed world
of mother-can-care
and complete emotional crutch
and ease off of life
remove your footing from the devotional clutch
and the pounding of my head
and the wrong end of the bed
and dwell that we wish
netting gills ; forever dead
An old one...about thirteen years ago
No significant alterations made
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