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 Apr 2014 Rin
Tim Knight
FIFTH
 Apr 2014 Rin
Tim Knight
If you’d just hold out your arms and lead;
force feed my feet to eat up the floor and once I - promise -
find that rhythm I will tip the tables and turn them so you’ll
be led in a waltz around the place, until your head is hidden by your hair and the dub-step-house-trance coming from the speakers turns to Mozart’s fifth, a symphony that features woodwind and strings in an endless kiss.

Will we dance to all four movements? you say

*Yes, until we become a dance floor nuisance, something more than a blur and an illusion and we're asked to leave.
coffeeshoppoems.com
 Apr 2014 Rin
st64
dive
 Apr 2014 Rin
st64
dive.. dive..
dive*


1.
I am eating fog on this pre-dawn bridge
an overcoat of no particular mood
     keeping intact considered-sincerity of warmth
     inhaling air tight with thin droplets
the c-cold of someone's click-clack in the distance
only an echo of studious-oblivion
glancing over the rail as the water swirls, dense

the silent hum of a slow-passing vehicle
windows darkly stare
I wonder who'd possibly be passing by here
and would they be connecting with that swirl, too


2.
there must be a walrus under there
         (shrinking-violet, that it is)
its projections long and probably needing plumbs
the departing fingers of night gnaw
attempt to steal what little shelters here
consent delayed by vertical-curses in bloom
and I'm thinking of a cat I used to have
who certainly didn't favour water

protests become latent-airborne, take off
as screeching squawks swoop by
hungry heartbeats gurgle, drip valiant
station within view.. phew, made it!



an accordion starts to play..
an elegy fit
for a dive.







st64, 3 April 2014
lovely weather these days.



sub-entry: goad-change

nothing like lifting the lid
insects swarm
sun exposing
giving rays

(thanks forever.. for all the help)

change is so good
change is healthy
what a goad-change!
 Mar 2014 Rin
Tim Knight
Worker out the window
staring straight down the street with
idle eyes on white wild lines
coming up quick in their peripherals.

They are now reduced to a body in a bag
and several bits of paper;
bills have been cancelled,
a mother's wails cut down to quiet lulls,
and the office floor from where they leapt from
has returned normal.
from>>
coffeeshoppoems.com
 Mar 2014 Rin
Poetry by MAN
Why do I want?
Why do I need?
When did longing plant its seed?
Delusion's dreams creating scenes
Is this what it is to become a fiend?
Still I want
Still I need
A tree has sprouted from that seed
Strong the branches
Vibrant the leaves
No more longing I now believe
When we search we never find
What we're looking for is all in our mind
Still I flirt
Still I flaunt
To someday obtain what I want...
M.A.N 3-28-14
 Mar 2014 Rin
Tim Knight
Season's greetings, or the omission of a hand to hold
when it's winter bleak, miserable and cold.

Two weeks away in the sun, or campsite summer-lit mornings
and sand in our sandals from an evening on the shore.

The dew puddles are forming,
its stagnant river sister foaming
with cream lips at the edge of the white water;
she's whispering well-thought-through white noise
because she knows of the future to come,
the upriver source told her that you've
two seasons left to sort yourself out.
coffeeshoppoems.com
 Mar 2014 Rin
Tim Knight
Pen & Paper
 Mar 2014 Rin
Tim Knight
You've bruises on your thighs,
both sides of skin beat and red.
If this is how he says hello to you
then maybe it's time leave, or is
it time to relieve yourself with
hits and smacks and colourful
comic-book thwacks back so his
****** nose can complement those
he gave you that time in spring.

Take your glass slippers and be
one of those girls in red dresses;
dance, twist, and twirl as well as
the rest of them, churn up that
dance floor ring and take time
out for more drinks, rehydrate
before looking for another long-
term date to be a tactile touch-er
with, another involved and committed
lover.

Take note from the pint husbands
and their half-pint wives around you,
pen a note to yourself for the future
beginning with,
Listen,
then moving swiftly on with,
If you find another man that hits
before he kisses you than you've picked wrong,

ending with,
*You've plenty of time left, stay strong.
FROM > coffeeshoppoems.com
 Mar 2014 Rin
Tim Knight
This body is a poor man's idea of grandeur-
and Talk To Frank says that confidence doesn't come in tubes,
pills nor injections, but when tomorrow morning you
feel like **** with a stomach-pit of methylamphetamine
and a head craving caffeine,
you'll disagree and say to him,

*Look, I talked to a girl I wouldn't normally talk to and we kissed.
 Jun 2013 Rin
Poetry by MAN
I sit alone in my cyberspace home, king of my universe on my internet throne, searching through threads for my cyberspace queen, born in a fantasy, died in a dream, reality on the horizon through a sea of doubt, my cyberspace soul dissipates when my user logs out....
6-13-13 M.A.N
 Jun 2013 Rin
Tim Knight
Under the eaves we’ll be dryer,
sat down in those chairs so not to tire;
there’s a fire in the back slowly smouldering.
            It reminds me of your desire last Spring.

Below the light we’ll embrace once more
beneath the bed sheets that pour over us like tides offshore,
but you were different with your Trojan war, Iliad heart.
            The snow has fallen, outside is the core and we’re now apart.


Inside the cabin we’ll be warmer
laying loose on the couch like lost foreigners:
you used to be a charmer back when it mattered.
            Now the ground is firmer and the leaves are scattered.
from >>> coffeeshoppoems.com
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