a little sordid
a little seedy
a little ****** up
a little needy
i could hate you
for being
so like me
but i love
the reflection
you've made
me see

If you care:
My
life is a little
box
and I dreamt of a
little box. The more I watched the less it
was. In
a solid white something. Lamps. A
table. Clothes. Proper punctuation and
capitalization. Unthinkable hopes
and blasphemous suppositions. Some force
that I can’t call God, just my sick
dream-logic, blew it to ashes. My world-cube. My mirrors.
My books. My awards and certificates and
All my precious stanzas. Cinders and pronunciation alone remained.
At this, I
smiled and
shook my soul
with the Prophet. My own music burst out
before me like mathematics
(My very breath guided by an
infinitely ascetic
sweep) and like oil paint (in
a world that glows
like neon and
breathes out empty
space) and I awoke from whiteness. I fold
myself into four
like the
secret of flight. But you don’t care.

The Voice Returns

My God I'm so lucky, I've heard it again,
waves slicing through, the clamor of distance,
so hard to describe, the feelings within,
when the softness comes through, I have no resistance

it is the clarity of knowledge, the soul of laughter,
caressing my heart, it rolls through my brain,
such a free spirit, like from the hereafter,
the Voice once again, feel my tachyons drain

the magic of wonders, the wonders of magic,
allowing the register, of sound to emit,
letting it go by unheard, would be tragic,
smoke fills the eye, of that one final hit

has this gone past, the true reason of life,
wanting the sweetness, to fill up my mind,
hearing the drummer, the marcher with fife,
I'll follow the Voice, maybe one day I'll find

Gomer LePoet ...

St Paddy is a devil
with a cruel taste for beer,
last night he beat me on my head
until my vision disappeared.

My eyes are feeling blurry
and my head is a balloon,
I dont know if I'll make it
until this afternoon.

My mouth tastes like a harbour *****
and my breath smells like a sewer
my brain cells are on strike
and my throat is like a skewer.

Finding your path
under Odin's gaze
tease out meaning
hewn in every tile
assembled stories
rendered in wood
known to the soul

He loved her and she loved him
His kisses ****** out her whole past and future or tried to
He had no other appetite
She bit him she gnawed him she ******
She wanted him complete inside her
Safe and Sure forever and ever
Their little cries fluttered  into the curtains

Her eyes wanted nothing to get away
Her looks nailed down his hands his wrists his elbows
He gripped her hard so that life
Should not drag her from that moment
He wanted all future to cease
He wanted to topple with his arms round her
Or everlasting or whatever there was
Her embrace was an immense press
To print him into her bones
His smiles were the garrets of a fairy place
Where the real world would never come
Her smiles were spider bites
So he would lie still till she felt hungry
His word were occupying armies
Her laughs were an assasin's attempts
His looks were bullets daggers of revenge
Her glances were ghosts in the corner with horrible secrets
His whispers were whips and jackboots
Her kisses were lawyers steadily writing
His caresses were the last hooks of a castaway
Her love-tricks were the grinding of locks
And their deep cries crawled over the floors
Like an animal dragging a great trap
His promises were the surgeon's gag
Her promises took the top off his skull
She would get a brooch made of it
His vows  pulled out all her sinews
He showed her how to make a love-knot
At the back of her secret drawer
Their screams stuck in the wall
Their heads fell apart into sleep like the two halves
Of a lopped melon, but love is hard to stop

In their entwined  sleep they exchanged arms and legs
In their dreams their brains took each other hostage

In the morning they wore each other's face