Butter
I fed an orange today and got butter.
Dreaming a quiet hum and they are gone
miscreants and perpetrators
only later, some see how it goes.
A saucer ******* them up in a shaft of cold light
away
extract memories on far off meteors
and drone on:
how 'bout a kiss?

Grow
Old liberties absconded and voices eschewed
don't dare grow your own field
crush the eggs
drain to soil, fresh milk
just a lesson to show who's not been good follower:
can we kiss now?


Wave**
Sad bad wave, a bad wave
breeding crooked hands and sarcastic crooks
holding onto the last flanges
unravelling free forces
knifing another rogue mutt afresh:
quit asking again.

Crush our confidence, like eggs.
Drain away care through
the blood of (our) young.

Flakes

Come, child.
Let me brush flakes against your jacket
make you curl inward like a leaf -- insulated.
Dachshund, a study in fidelity
walks along the dusky road, quiet curving.
Light falls in the doorway
and drowsy become your eyes
the sun is tired, soon to dip.


Slip not

Swear to make no promises in summer.
When those clouds change and wisp away
as the words slip out, sentences ******
to the floor, like change from a purse.
Slip not in the change.
Toes in the sand, and rough skin rides off.
Old clauses and old books, much like
calluses chafing in delayed surf.



Fall

down
down
down
Do we die a bit each time we sleep
or saunter spots we daren't when awake?
There's more than one season of sand running through my fingers
and I'm sometimes not so sure what gems I've caught
or lost
upon clutching closed, so
my clenched fist draws solid white.


Snail

There's never any rhyme or reason
whichever may be the season.
Wonder who slid down that crevasse
frozen in pain and alone, preserved.
Grab that hat, tuck away sad songs
and inhale this new hue
a blue you used to dream of, long snail's paces back
of blossoms (and thoughts)
like butter -- rich, full, creamy things.



You**

The penny drops.
You didn't hear.
Never do.
You may well throw accolades on me densely
before the world, but in the grip of this dance
tiers come forth and I slip rapidly ten levels, down.
Down the ladder, with heart decidedly heavier than its climb up.
Perhaps, when all the letters fly in the breeze
the kites will turn the right way round
and you taste salt as you lick onto your tongue
a sleeping storm.

Because I thought we could talk about it, and
in the flurry of beehive
Better late for some, if not all.........

award

Odd, the need to parade the best. Much like
putting on show all the biggest hardons.
For all to see.
The floppies watch from the sidelines, like stalkers.
They know theirs have better toys later
to ride out old storms.
  

put it in a letter

So says the very sinner, letting the offended leave.
Hail false proclamations and now the poor blob
runs far away.
Crying for the flat tree to watch over
royal bratlings.

season**
See now, near a full year.
You hold your fort, who knows how, really.
Grant the day you quill a line
and slant smiles again, like
red trails on snow.

Cow
You got a good cow?
Yeah, this one's got enough shy
Won't overextend her *** onto your tongue.
Yeah?
But she's ready to express.

Donkey
They killed the donkey
who did the donkey work
now the flood cannot be stemmed
too bad the horse is so ill equipped
the donkey work to collapse to plan B:
complacency is asking for it.

Wife
The farmer's wife keeps the trough filled
Her family all feed there, friend too
Hungry *******
She somehow feeds another
via the backdoor.

Red
The rooms all have this red glow
The men degrade themselves
A candle drips hot wax, moaning
Black leather and tasseled whips
Keeping the tapeworm alive.

Backstage
The visionary talks of truth, talks his head off
of hidden things and backstage agenda
There's now a fourth world status
in the back alleys of overcrowded slums
all overdosed on honeyed impressions.

Detour
High castles for preachers and glass houses for the rest
Some contend with deliberate detours to escape
dark dreamers in once rustic countryside towns.

Abstract**
Behold the executioner, removes the mask
The plot unravels, poor boy blade in gums
Coerced to perform things, ends in *****
Head in the desert; one jolt and jump away.

buckle to the times
The young man finds a long chapter ended, awaits another
Knowing the wind blasts aught of charity
Ennui cavorts random and alienates the helper
Many trapped in posts akin to sinking, heavy blocks
Till one dash of black wave must destroy the stagnant water pool.


bye, little bird
Wish well her of shy mind on this strange and hasty trip
To impress a panel to make an odyssey out of learning
Suture memory with anticipated creme de menthes
And liars fall flat, who faltered never 'fessed
Upon big, iron wing you fly--bye, little bird.


hard**
Like a Dutch fan with the top of russet, critic to the hug
She comes from so far to meet the southern sky
A little late, but always arriving in white: trio on the green
Sturdy bedrock steadfast in the spiraling crash; salt on lips
In the clasp of beach blues, the sun shines hard.


Grownup offspring do move on, slips of life
Some attend not rushed meteors; start living.

The grind

Facing the wall again, deep awkward and painful staring at the floor
Tittering a laugh, cruelty unintended but the long grind of waiting
The stucco church, solid near the bulk shop
He started earlier than the rest and they never could catch up
He left earlier as well.



Where to turn?

Well elided turns makes a lazy talker, yes m'am, no sir
Carry over from prior months, a horror thick with worry
Fish swim no more here, Auriole has been called home
And the child she took from autistic streets rakes thoughts together
Rugged ones hardly expected success from the slower one
Well, surprise.




Stone**
Baking rays, in the shade we climb
The spider said to the vine: how art the tidings there?
Be told unlike, the searcher's dream wilts slow in a postbox
The chart burns, and discrepancy marches again.

colossal

When did buildings decide to tower so high?
perhaps history told truth, civilizations need
to be toppled by forces calamitous
the machine chews on; sly, colossal horror
humanity outstripped.



tired

I try to keep my eyes open, but I'm so tired
there's no quiet spot left
Just want to rest my candle, but it blows out; still
perhaps, when that lea calls one day
I can rest a bit: no more fencing.




In the silence**

You beckon attention with slanted diffidence
but indifference puts paid to embraces advancing less.

They come to you, insidious and a kind of shunning occurs
which numbskull holds the bag of water over your convictions?

In the silence of your perambulation, despite bidding a quiet tongue,
the hissing from the charnel nearby escaped you; and it was dark.

fireplace

With the child she stands by the fireside, consoling tears
fallen branches cannot regrow, save the buds an early blossom
all oblivious to the angel standing behind them, a sword in hand
lifted high, glory brought forth from a babe's cry
the antechamber fills with dread sounds
a gurgling no parent should hear
her heart was not ready.


new shoes

In the cool of rain, small sounds magnified
new shoes: a callus will form in time
it's only mortals meeting in a chamber stiff
old air chokes madly
games played these days are brutal
I will write a letter; the breeze flies.


pile**

One atop another, gawky tries finesse, falls flat
pile on pile on pile
a range of mountains called my name
much like a needle in thick plush pile
they never found me
tig is lost of flicks and feats
possible genius reduced to numbers by idle hands.

I don't pretend to know (you), even as you slice up
the last quarters I have left.

trip
hardy never weakens
pushes over limits, rose over the blue




plan under boughs
crush the rose, white napkin
tea for two last night




inadmissably lost**
crush the rose
a rerun of angels' lament, brew of tears

****

before my very eyes right now
bottle brush sway dance for me and I get breeze caressed
and blades of grass all round me, my lovely quiet friends
over two yellow towers, a small wink flits across the way
chittering its strange works and seeping in all my veins
bugs marvel at this towering stilt
aloe of varied height, a neat semi circle round the being
protecting all open ****, still raw


             I can cry out for pain, but I do not
I let it sit inside my mouth
like a throbbing tongue
till it goes away
or melt into the soil
              that mother earth opens for me, in the wings of stunted dreams


I can reach up and pull a branch to me
full of foliage, green and brown
every leaf a miracle, just for me in this moment
nature dust paints much contrast and sensuous texture










yellow rose

I take your wrists in my hands and you let me to the hasty lines
scribbled in short hand patience
I had better be quick, catch that pulsing
I may miss the already camouflaged code
placed between your lips, a yellow rose

before the world
challenge credence and beat nerve ridden walk
and no need to butter up anything
what's true, is true

I adore you beyond mere words, despite this
dry salt survives absent eyes
expectations sprain and get crippled, hobble on
on crutches made of geranium petals
like a half boat on an arduous journey
to visit a season on another planet that I hold within this can
just for you










stem**

you're such the poem for keeps
no poikilotherm stem
tubes of beautiful green fluids
thanks to the extraordinary sun spill
of light in every breath

change

beautiful child in a bubble, so touched by life
won’t you please come home?

a heartbeat  holy in the method of conformity, of broken rules
                  raindrops pelt their cleansing transfusions onto your hide
how you survived the barrage of all your terms in there
                  the spitting on you and kicking your liver
they gave you everything not intended for your path, penalty unsought
                  but you were so terribly bent on making change
you wanted to run free
                  no reins on your breathing and untethered to ropes
you wrought freedom for the couch sitters from the toil of your blood
                  forgiveness never late
justice runs blind into the night and a bus catches flame
                  a knock at the door, two uniformed soldiers with a flag
you're at the wrong house, my friend
                  please go away




bail

a signpost showed direction and you cantered off, away from there
the only friends you made were the shadows on the bridge at midnight
when your *** got bailed out by even more hopeless sods
you have quite a story to tell, when you get to land again (if you do)
on the goodness of soil
a wooden chair on a stage, lit by candles on the edge
                   you will speak your words
the ones you never could
                   it’s been so hard when they always flitted out of grip
yet you are the one who will bring it round



hunger**

the knight knows well to aid the sufferer
                   but in the dark woods one never knows
hunger comes in all forms and deeds are cloaked by trees
                    moving truth into obscurity
a matchbook sends intermittent sparks of redemption to level the fields
I struggle to see how this is kept together
bring me closer


child of the rains, step out that puddle
there’s warmth in a heart your senses have yet to fully appreciate
please come home

ebb

it hides there, beneath the wisp of cloud
clouds all broken into pieces, forlorn and sad like a homeless ocean

the ebb so far out, feet flat on the sea bed
it is magic, sense the ocean drift



bursting

how it teases, rocks aplenty of squiggly things
life bursting into tiny streams

jagged edges do little to carp fear on
it cannot help with wish dreams of the hapless

to push back the waves so far; I can quickly run across
find the route to where heartbeats wait to clip onto energies

there's a light rain falling in gentle tacks
feet on warm paved promenade; subtle electric magnet under soles



discard*

socks discarded; knife edge to display shell fish harvest
the moon on the coast wills its eyes in shy want

it must come to pass
and it will -- all in good time



after all, what is passion -- but ebb, burst, discard?*
(not in that order, necessarily)

turn into a tight ball
stand over the gravity ball
allow me to melt into it
down....
down....

enter the space and see the bright light
this place and that place is the same
just, we are on an existence thwarted by human vision
we see what the space threads permit

but there's something beyond this

there is more than this, it can be felt in the melting
it's only molecules in the fray
small electric bursts in mauve and orange flickers

I am nearly ready for moulting, which needs to occur
I am afraid but I push forth into
the bright light

the dregs of your spotted smiles somersaulted in an elegant arc

fell in helpless array and landed nine planets away from my feet

and something slightly old still feeds my anger at your impatience





I forage through my grace to keep my tongue from spilling mess

and my heart feels all squiggly as I sneeze my way to your mocking silence

I gladly offer sweet indulgence while you openly despise my faults




I forage through my fantasies, not wishing to appear so trivial

lesions swell on the plastic head of revulsion

let not depression eat at your sweet magical pulse

still strongly beating in the sometimes sepulchral coffers of life




scorn not the honey bee buzzing or the hummingbird flitting

embrace the nuisance of calamity

for it helps along the way

to make vigorous the spirit

to wedge a cardiac space in place of pillowcase full of stones

where giants sleep in silent meadows across the land

sensing no sharp slingshot from no nifty bottle legged creature

and disappearing into the thicket would be the right time

on a heavy back, a child carries a burden made of toxic crayons

to melt away the awful prejudice of its forbears; undo the chains

the bringer of rain stands alone in a puddle, or is it a lake?




are YOU awake?

a pony ride turns hollow when unshod hooves slip and tear
lots of room for prey and avarice on the prowl
I'm hiding sad shadows in the gods' kind shade
the position you've cosseted was never yours
and a bouquet in full bloom lies face down in a trash can
and a dead plant stands in the corner of a takeaway outlet
your shadow came to talk to me when you fell into deepest asleep

a frosted windowpane is sandwiched in snow
a slick oil spill in a cat's hungry paw
incredibly, convo is created in terse debate over a teaspoon
similarly, two ladies sit and sip in evening caps

amarna letters get torn or burnt to maintain the unknown

awakening

torturing mind with stark perfection of a song serving as the giving mother who never did
try to hold you so close as the clouds break in rapid succession in a sweltering sky

tiptoe through lands of dreams, afraid to witness awakening to ruddy shots of possibility
postponing courage again, testing the waters proving that theories move in odd ways

rushing to bite the hand which holds out a bleeding heart in hopes of acceptance
there’s a hollow ring in the crater when shouts fall on deaf ears

but comprehension leaks fluid like organic matter from a sieve
and words are mere petals straining to hold onto the flower head

but the strands of life must persist in natural fall
among so many other things, we lose sixty hair strands each day--- why stop at reason?



**lap

and with eyes closed, you place your head on my lap
and I stroke away all your cares in the hopes to soften that blistered terrain raging inside
and sagacity will wash over us and render sweet oblivion to concerns of the world

there will come in our lives, so many laps and countless hurdles
can one really place importance on which lap counts more than another?

loading ideas onto a railing which proves slippery beyond the sea shore’s mercy
when all the flares have exhausted their capacity for withholding harm
when a ship comes ready to carry away any hardy souls

that’s the day I hope I have your hand in mine
when you shake in your convulsions of pain and need, I want to hold you close
and when you think I can no longer bear to witness your vulnerabilities, I pull you in and hold you
with enough space between our madness to make up for the losses that life pours



you’re the one who has seen all my masks crumble and fall
cheerily, we slip in and out of visages of today
and memory rests on those things which swim in an osseous bowl
and yesterday is an old mirror while tomorrow is an overblown expletive of the hopeful


when the world has blown its axis to damnation and beyond its realm of corridors
there’s absolutely little to overturn the leverage
the full capacity of brilliance is never reached
until we let go to enter the steady tides of the moment

will some letters ever find their way to you?






impeccably yours from dawn to dusk
I bring forth the unlikely
with dreams cut cleverly from the cloth of space
and sprinkled with stardust stolen from god's lonely sky

it's a pity you can't stand my edgy fire
and I cherish this somewhat many sided love
like a mammal bright, a whale at karmic sea
harpooned and tried for strength and tested endless
how easily you flick the ashes of your blustering efforts
into the dustbin of my mind

begging this wild heartbeat to roost in your care
and for this restless pining to migrate to rest

eagerly pick my locks for the contradiction I am
to find your heart inside the confusion of this mainstay

Brimming with black steeds, green bowls overflow with walls of raining lava in ****** mode
Pinning down paradise beneath your brown thumb, see it wriggle away in mockery of your arty drivel
Only you can thrash on, as magically as a thought which pops in rude bursts
- - - then away it flies


In a silent harbour of study, all the imperfections of my breathing that the mirror glances back at me
I try hard not to swallow failure wholemeal, in the course of a day  - - -  I choke so many times
And angel wings brush by in shy embrace, but I shove its clemency flat on its face


And in vehement denial of anything beautiful - - -  it is not present, save through you
I can submerge so easily, if only to succumb to the silence and the peace
The muted bubbling around my head and throbbing against my ears and pressing on my arms
So comforting


Instead, there’s too regular clicking to the detriment of supple joints
And licking of lips and silent brooding in steeped corners
Any effort to siphon the stillness in the air is severed by intrusions


And the lake beckons me - - - my broken feet follow

in front of the mirror, she stands and sees them on the wall, tipping along the dust
she presses coffee and rinses dishes under hot, soapy water, her eyes on that wall
then out the window
the sun winks high and the glass talks in telltale signals left by sunken reveries

she falls into slumber so deep and intuitive webbing takes over all ahead
the old Singer in the corner sits silent and awaits its timely command
then, she wakes to find all the silent trappings of caterpillar's welcome
and deep in the forest of her serene thoughts, she taps into worlds half lost to Man
too little to expect in the moonlit attic of North verdant wedged into half a heart

she lowered all the burnt offerings into the soil and gave up one prayer after the other
pulling loose the pieces into the loom, turn the wheel and spin a cloak out of suffering
all night and all the next day, the spinning proves to be substantial
and it grows

the cloak is done, it's so beautiful
and on the wall, there it shows the promise of tomorrow
she eyes that missive dumped in the wastepaper basket

so many squares overlap in the rainbowed light; the shadows play rapier games on the wall
and the night lands refreshing on spicey green and greets the walker
hurtling somnabulist takes a dip into cast reflection of unexpected calls
and on the wings of nocturnal takings, she travels yet further

what a land of stones and sticks

could say its schemes rhymes with Styx

from bridges high, their evil spurts

over highways onto windscreen, splattered with

shoulders pulled out, arms fractured and red smears

put her down to mute the screech of pain

an old lady can't bear all that along with high blood



a saintly man held high is hardly dead

and **** starts coming down in chunks

must get out, must get out, while I can

it's all unravelling in a bad way

you never could get along with those nocturnal visitations
which try to lull your reason and make soft
reality

inside trappings of my broken sleep, the gallops of your petulance
gets traction in the volleys of your tirades                                      
and I wear your influence like a triple metaphor on ******
highly magnetic and so giving


(so, do I have to duck each time I wish to speak?)


the sun sets slowly, in defiance of the sky
and slyly seeps its blazing colour trail
evening birds come to roost inside my closing eyelids
and there, they wrestle throughout the night
jostling for a space they believe is theirs
they bite and peck in restless dispute
till they find rest in the niche above your dreams


on the vine, grows dusty pods -- cache of independence
and such cracks in the ceiling may prove useful
in the end


it's in your veins where your fractious genius lives --
the whispers of my wishes race along the highway of your blood
chase through your arteries
dart into the mind and back to the heart, where they hope to reside
but it gets a decorated invite card to kindly leave
but you don't see me feel it
(the tiniest embossed part upon the reverse is a modest
ilu)

gentle soul, art thee
in folds of godskin
bring forth the truth
forsake not the heart

revered mind's uphold
calamitous extent

oh, gentle being here
cast aside doubt
bring you inside (bring you inside)

gentle waves
gentle smiles

how gentle becometh
the godcloth surrounds thee

I could toss my cares over a rainbow
Let it hang there a while and dry out its sorry behind
As I squeeze some slices of brackish time to research the deliberate contours of your patience
Swerving its way past concealed match sticks
Bend at the so definite behest of none.


Slurring backwards
Tentative graphica
Huge baskets of winding fun
Sketchy image pencilled in, for now
Details come later in -------- a terminal
(hopefully)


Charcoal drawings offer the sweet sound of breaking cumulus and sudden wax of orange
come to life on a sullen bed of love apples
shapes are p-p-p-pulled to painstaking proportion
deep lines stippled drastic
dragged along on unwieldy wagon strokes
       Art never really tastes ink but celebrates ephemerae
yet trapping half understood and beautiful pictures
beneath mocking glass panels
smudged with such deep knowinggggg


You can do something to stop this **** blood impasse
beset more so with counterfeit decline
blind bull rage too ready and bloodthirsty acts bay
half crippled and on its knees, how your land cries
see the (over)spill of rightly invective remain unresolved
  

See the deprivation at the lake
all gall thirsty, yet none to drink
just a hapless event smarting  
On a downward cyclic turn
no more will sing voices when old gripes unheard
scream in the long, red lines bulleted across that holy floor  
albeit the wicked general holds the trussed up cards
he won’t bother scraping the dried salt of kin later
it grows ever more in sad mounds on the little green book
awaiting missing miracle


inflections of a restless mind
within the ***** creep
retorts from peerless craft forge  
entangled moans in briars and sundry
resort to savour within disyllabic silence
  
Can you but count the ways in which these coins of seeking do ****** across
an afflicted floor of red lines to an exculpated heart, un(cor)rected ?
Unprocessed miracles are items of constant bewonderment in duress living

Your name is engraved on the underside of a tree I’ve yet to climb one day
I step out my pod only to see you
A glow upon your forehead calls my name
No words in this sunken land
Where music tones are breathed in
A darkness fall upon the sand
The like I’ve never seen


Heavy heart stands alone as the chosen leaves
In sweet embrace, it all comes clear in new pods
Oh no, now all see how light is dimmed
So easy to turn their backs on it
But surprise steps into a prism coat of redness
To lead the way back to joining the one




All witness the beauty of highest sacrifice

You’ve taken off your headlight to ensure
I don’t get left behind.

mixed stirrings
hard to place this constant ire rising from ashes of a fire not quite, yet felt
stir into that melting *** the sum of miscellany unknowns
all wrought from the unsweet gifts of quotidian sighs
no need to wrap the present, baby, for it's already here
twinkling in the birth of every moment
we hardly know it nor acknowledge
so busy wrenching pain from secret places the darkness loves to keep

yesterday brought unsought smiles of outer space dust
then space in pushed into the blue spit bubble of crayfish folly
and fear frozen into place on cauldroned cheeks
as tendons pulled fury tight on a cocky bounty's cry

I want to carry that sweet loading joy
which scorches my receptiveness in astringent non reciprocation
I die to please that spangled energy so much
which holds back its cagey kernel, far from my prying hands
I kneel to take in out of the blue blessings
which fall slapdash on this preoccupied trajectory, forever waiting in sozzled hope
I take the package you flash and cast heavy
which leave sweltering whiplines across my insides
all fine, all just a fine melange

beneath your magic fontanelle lies a sunken cache
there are painfully few privy to that miracle
I live in hope of neither looping nor taking
but just to be happy to bear witness to the shiny array of your gem stock

you are like none other, inimitable and hard gemstone (inside)
a mix of purity stirred in crazy, along with star shine and fire sparks
*my angel with honey eyes

welcome

she welcomes my energy inside and gives me tea
calms my busy light without a single word
smiles at my bright aura
a tabby ginger cat purrs on a gingham cloth
blue Delft plates in a row

this was a time with no fuzzy
no noise
no waste
no haste




dimming of all goodness

a woman’s head rolls on the fine sifting sand
dry and warm
a rapier juts forward, pierces the guts of an old man
who carries a child on his back
there’s a red blanket what flies on the line
soggy and now,  it’s hard to tell whose blood drips so

an elongated horn is blown from a desert hill
nobody lives in the mountains of Miranda anymore
her ghost has found voice in the echo of the brambles
her secrets still buzz in heavy hives of long ago
discovered and ravaged by trusted traitors
now hanging in clusters, newly unfound
dried corpses also hang (unmolested) in bloodwood trees
where every trace of gall is let flow in kino



the blood of Miranda flows on**

she of terminalis
lives on eternal
in brook and vale and bush
in veins of progeny bee
and also
in the crickets of the field

superb partaking of private delicacies
yet always keeping track of the skyline
keeping senses alert, never fully falling

I allow myself to get hurt each time that skyline changes
not because I enjoy the pain
but there's just something about you I'm not willing to lose, not that easily
so, I swallow ******* and suppress the ego and take the whipping words readily
whatever it takes

there may come a relinquishing moment when I can just give and let it all flow
free fall, like a kite almost

but for now, when shadows may come and place arms round the heavens
****** sun rays from abode and kiss the air into a messy cloudburst
and leave the sky taut with approaching footfalls of fiery thunder claps

I take it all and want it no other way
I accept the paradox fully
the pattern has been set
it is consistent

this mega beautiful skyline over me hovers so discreet in plain sight yet blind to all
I see the veins on the back of your hand, and blood veering sideways towards impossible thoughts
yes
a line upon the horizon tells me never fear
a stringent fire walk simply tests the mettle coil
discoveries in life confirm nobody is alone

as deep and low as it gets sometimes
the highs, oh! the highs outfly the roof
take what you need from life now and from me
yet take your sweet time
until the day I see your eyes reflected in that skyline
and your lamp beckoning on, into this frame

your skyline tastes so good

running over sea less ocean
into you, hurtling into jigsaw dreams
meet the see saw ride


A tree grows from my wrist
You’re (more than) half my crazy day, every day

Reel plays on while doing other things
I walk in trenches full of dead soldiers

It has already happened
Too late


will you hold my hand, oh please?
I’m so afraid of the dark

there's a wicked radar filling the area
where my mind used to be

we are all made up of cells
these cells will join once more

into Mother Earth
who will accept us - when the time comes tapping


and have you been paying attention?
please, don't quit on dipping into the lake of dreams


....unraveling....//

I’m falling off this rock
There’s not enough gravity left

I stood on the wrong side, too close to the edge
Now, I’m falling, fare me well


We didn’t pay all our bills to God
Not insured enough, walk and run and trip and fall



So, now.         kaput!
Save this crazy lifetime in a warped bottle

Which soon will crack for all its solar scrutiny
Insulate the bold things you can never have on stained glass fuzzy print

A half eaten apple sitting on a dusty cloud still has that deified eye planted on it
Globes are lit in insolence on mossy beds

Dreams in armour pick up tell tale signs of cooing sounds very far away
An autumn landscape falls upon the face on a knight whose real name is you

A cruciform gift embedded in a rock only the worthy can retrieve
A lump of coal burns in steady flickers within the palm of hand

Hop out bowl and try to fly, yet land four seconds short of truth
Hiding beneath a rude rainbow and peeping out at striker rays

Cells squirm and turn, ready to burst out soma

And a sky stretches on and on, like a dicey waterfall in ******

One photo snap and it’s all gone!










tonight I watch it come alive at ten to midnite

recalled clues illumine yet don't show all

we will not speak of it
but I feel lost without you

whenever I see you
the circle joins in wholesome gladness

YOU are the one, wise and of goodwill
and every moment every day is a step closer

in the early morn of day comes a piercing shaft of light
upon the platform placed, prepared for settling
(and for planting)

it takes a while for things to reach a fine state of maturity
yet things reach state of bliss when arable thoughts become real
and the day shines bright on the one who comes
to pick the rose
which grows slow and steady
awaiting the fleeting brush of fingertips to graze


this


quivering
                                          soul

(what an unparalleled glimpse into an alternate existence)

lock in slowly into new moment
sitting on the edge of unneutered idea
incredible finesse in your eyes
seeker sought / finder found
relative mercy in life does exist

blessings burgeon and even g-r-o-w
quite hard to believe my eyes get graced by
the source of the light which has so touched
more than realised

alert and overflowing energy
it was saved up for this magical moment
this direct miracle
how is it again - that I deserve this?

then, the open enigma hides a bit, and shifts
and I'm talking to a lamp shade
but blue tendrils bring back the smiling one
who dips with me
into this lucky packet moment

an alternate reality exists
it is there
it / is / there!!!

the more outlandish and exotic the settings
the further apart the tides shift
the more real, the closer it gets



distance distilled into fallow tracts of once wild shores
despite crestfallen dips
high rising peaks




if you look through my window
what would you see?
perhaps the skein of illicit thoughts
tangling into Rapunzel hopes
or a latent emissary of a semi shocker prophecy
if you had but the merest inkling
of the unaccountable depth of warrior blood
coursing headlong for acquaintance
of fulfillment of spectacular intimacy




scrolling endless
rough, the visions
the significance of this equation
waiting to balance
upon the sills of petulant time
dares little panacea
for it is itself bound by hand and foot
chugging along the eyelashes of fate's decree




can I look through your window?
will I see a casual draping of Indian cloth
behind the deliberate anger that is you?
you cannot know how widely your tutelage
dripped steady
into a ready soul, ready for it all




often, how the mind does play tricks
it sometimes feels as if insouciance
plays center court on stilts
while I grapple confused, patiently
the large view may soon present itself



and I dream so of you
a ten minute watch on my shift
of medium term offering



I run away to the dreams within this packed arena
a still room
half in gentle shadows
she let me in
she told me you'd be here soon
to make myself at home
sweet rose incense in the inside courtyard
lulls my senses

I hate to feel scared
I almost hide away and lock myself
into a tiny closet or the bathroom
a strange room and I'm alone
I wonder where you are
all is ready
hot tisanes on a lacquered tray waits
the hand of one to come
seeming Bento boxes prepared so elegant
heartbeat high anticipate
goof guff, goof guff
shall I leave rather?


drowsy falls upon my eye
I settle down on settee
curl up by the slanted sunrays
throughout the patio door
fountain spritz of droplets
on nature's grey slate flat stones
lids flicker down, fall away
gentle, gentle, fall away
deeply away
relaxed


(a while..)


a light tap on the shoulder
fright awake!
who is that??
shudder into conscious reel

oh
ohhhhhhhh..................
I am here...........with you


disbelief floods my every pore
and rising slow, unsteady
and I smile at......... u

everything can be so open to interpretation, hey
which version now, which version
life loves to throw that wrench upon the curveball to twist a thought and make one think

I'm so mad about you, really crazy for you and I cannot even show it, like I want
question is, are you mad at me?

I get the need for breaks and things
I guess, it's really a case of tragado como

one man stuck in a boat, sees an island and shouts, 'Land!'
while a counterpart on there shouts, 'Boat!'
what irony!

let me take it in the morning
as sleep is wrenched free from magic and dreams spill away

when my fingers go seeking, dark around the moon hells
and the sift calamity around the air in your kiss

watch with smug freshly shampoo’d dig
can you tell the distance between the under door and beyond?



A giraffe at the window, staring through the blinds
Bees in the mailbox, trying to escape the flapping junkmail
Beneath the basement, a loud squealing, won’t go away
A creature that fell through the cracks of a scalding nightmare


Into the floor, seeping through every layer
Feed it hemlock, but it won’t go quiet
He who drops a cell onto a moving floor
Will find a young boy’s poor mother, dead at his feet
With a neat handful of blood, seeping onto a well-manicured lawn
take me in your palm, hide me there, in your wrist


keep me safe in your pulse and maybe one day
my wings may mend when you feel a life pulse change
and less of a seeping away

once long ago, a crab and a fish met at the sea edge
they had need of something
neither knew themselves
until the other placed it in light

to be saved from the clutches of man
who came every day with nets so wide
deep knotted and ever ready
to catch the sea bounty in one swoop

then came the wally waves
and washed them away
back into the deep sea
where hidden treasures waited

see me, see you
no biting of heads
no hacking of sides

no?

freedom is a funny thing
what would dreams bring
but calamity (and loss
tears superfluous waste of water)

slow treading in treacle
hold absent flora to the wind face
cross eyed glory on a pale mask

no extending big hand
to the child who doles out water
to babes from ***** papercups

scratching scoops of brown mess
amid domesticated fauna
in the middle of nowhere land

feet rubbing for warmth
an ever going stipple wagon
a small blanket the only cover

one scooter holds too many
open beauty closing too soon
supply demand coercing blank stare


impasse holds the keeper hostage
some up - some down
no break from unbroken cycle

the dreamer lives forever on
inside the tightest cage
and knows there's little cure

yet within full ironic view
lies the priceless key to unlock
dark eyes implore me to take you

anything is possible
                                                                ­      yes
                                                       ­               anything
dreamer, dreamer
open dreamer

open your dream wings

I’d fling the sun far into your cut corner
and shove moonlight broadly onto your toenails
you would want for so little
as the oceans carry you to shores of your water borne desire

wicked is the world stream when high hopes pegged precarious
onto chalky lines that shift like changing clouds
and lend its kind illusory touch under the lee

end dashed like outcast mirrors whose use
is rod cracked like inside the core of acrid earth
where awaits hot lava in secret fissures to melt all ropes
to bridge so narrow a wing's gapped fluke

jerking maestroms circle overhead
inducing desultory plunge
finger pointing, egg-beating, giddy whirly whirl

a day will come as yet unknown
when soul rags are panel worked and hylic sheathed
when latticed treats, as American as apple pie
will fill that tabled sky decked with cirrus tablecloth

averted seeker squint feels that cat-eyed wonder
flattened insect on a troubled screen with translucent beauty wings
lets in a dry smile ***** of real life dust in heretical relief

rupture
        ventilation
bolt that flippin' door – shut out the ****** world – make fast the curtain sides
broach the unslotted gap you know is yours and proclaim it wide: open sesame!
gouge your way into me - till I’m fully plugged with light
caulk me with your fingers till my spine near cracks
spike my heart with currents from the milk rush of you
pierce my thigh strips and whip the whetted words out me
tap into the slinky slices of my pervious skylit want
there will be no occlusion as arches meet under shuddered pleats

no, I have precious little time or heart to draw cute sunshine panels onto your retracted sleeve
in that stead, I can really be just plain me
who’d  eagerly wrench pale-blue patches from the sky cloth
and steal in zest moonbeams from lovers’ eyes
and heartily fling the sun your way and rob its life-giving warmth
and gladly rip up torn foliage from its homes
along with pert petals from fickle floral parties

if only these were things you’d want
yet, well I know whatever be the pains
there waits little gain
feral feline will trouble little more
heart swing derision flies poor as sad plighted answer rings on

are some dreams real?
dogs in the alleyways
stopped at the robot by a slavic cop lady
but she lets others pass

dragged to a restaurant
interrogated by a mafia owner demanding money I don't owe
they say I've eaten there with a pregnant lady last week
dunno what they mean
Alan smiles but conspiratorially with them
how can he be a friend?
I sob that I don't get their drift
too late..

I need to a safe room to tell a story
whisper your name in the night
dream you lodge nearby
I jump up to do midnight chores
i pack out glassware from closets and you're there
ostensibly to help
the helpful lodger gesticulated that he's leaving
while I make the right noises of working

so, after upturning the table to work on its insides
you leave it on the floor
upside down
it will stand that way till you return
you get so irked at my queries
I'm half afraid to talk
I get a quick kiss pressed onto me face
I didn't brush my teeth
my tongue feels thick and gritty
you rush off into the night

I'm in an alley with a tape-recorder
hearing a deal go down
I call to the fat son of the owner
they're all slobs
with underwear down their knees
and *** on their shoes
I drive down the highway with half attention
and think how we could have met
yet that thought drifts far away now
as my story waits in line
on a conveyer belt the public never sees

stepping out this time line
to lance ahead single entity
for when the other catches up
there just ain't enough temporal cloth
to be clad in unity cloaks

some dreams are maybe then just dreams

celestial flight of wings - loud flapping and nestle into each other
in formation. smiling anon

seasons go awry when the elements forget their role
creeping over the eve's horizon

a light unexpected born from a need
finds its way into me

a bolt of frightening behind the tresses of leaves
hiding my eyes again..

incoherent tapping of signals
a morse code of flames into a netherworld

so cold the landscape of longing inside.. the volcano nobody sees
never has really seen its true light of day

your laughter filters youth infused through my being
like a ripple of an ice-cream flavour yet to be mixed

as they have in heaven's quarters
where I long to be..

cladding of a miniature kite
flying low
nearly raking treetops


figuring out all the stupid crap apps
vying for attention
flashing waste of unnecessary things

peck.. peck.. at indulge crumbs left
berried stalks on a pavement
deep fried horror slow ingest

impoverished smiles answer sewer cracks
sift through detritus of sea sludge
trickery wishes weeded out by force

probe eyes drill into sunbaked back
from across wrenching chasm scream
tearing of brown paper heard from toothless vagrant

hide a peek into auburnt stuck starfish
stand on violent edge
treble want not nearly seen

rocking wicker chair on solid balcony
light breeze fondles sweated head
curls o'oblivion study of gripping truth


I place within your palm
a miniature__kite
of such extent
its face can be hid forever
within the depths of you

still to ferry out depths
no petty parrot poems
to divvy up the score
nor ramp-up efforts


climb into lightning
totally unafraid of the scalding rods
feet out to sand dollars
cool as cucumbers
like walking on the spiny surface of an outer moon
crinoid wishes crumble like walls of an ancient civilisation
as saddle wrass masticates half-born ideas with Aristotle’s lantern
rendered sessile, bloodclotting measures kick in
as emergency repair kit carried on the sidelines
brittle stars are bandaged and fossilised as ambulacra pull tight
overgrown daisies fail to fly free and loosening pollenseeds are all caught


lick up that salty brave snot
and brace face to that taut wind
this urchin with star backed burden
bears no cretaceous page
just bobs on hope
in relatively quiet waters

I seek your sounds in the crickets of the woods
and  I hear . . .
I look for  your eyes in the call behind the sky tier
and I see . . .
I yearn so for the mystery clip of your being
and I receive . . .


I miss you so.

And the spaces between us
Oh, they  . . . g a p e . . . so wide.


Saudade.

I can touch the air swirls around the timelessness of you
Can you feel the tingle as those lines are emboldened by shortening time stretches?


Approaching you . . . approaching only you . . . rare moments dawn when we just don't look.

Saudade, saudade . . .

look into the morning mirror
slow shave and study dull eyes
looking back



a floor full of masks the passed ones may have dropped
he falls onto the ceiling, nose pressed onto the frieze
and she puts on heavy-shoes and has to hook him back downwards
it takes morning starch and bitter coffee to make ceiling dust shy
fashion is thrown out on its cracked sheen
as the carried mode entails only generic style and empirical fall



Let me sniff your armpit
Let me sniff it, please
I'm looking at you stand before my eyes
I see you right here.. before my very eyes



a pigeon on a windowsill
such a lovely unexpect!
it flies inside - harmony beheld
creates a stir
into a pane, stunned.. and life is expectorated
disposal wants to occur too fast and something
                                                                          
            breaks inside him

system slave runs forward, grabs its soul
and hurries out slow

gray panels of cement amidst more gray panels
lodged between silvery towers and metal clink
olfactory-core comes nerve alive

( . . . )




he stands before the glass and looks upon her face
whose eyes may show no grief
clothed in vest and heavy foot
he unclips the last vestige
fully cognisant
and off he goes
to shock of passerby
he looks up to see the truest, bluest sky


and looks down to see the small figure
of her
receding.. receding.. receding ..




duty of kissing ceilingdust is in the past and

so is
living in slow-reverse

celestial flight of wings - loud flapping
and nestle into each other in formation
smiling anon


seasons go awry when the elements forget their role
creeping over the eve's horizon

a light unexpected born from a need
finds its way into me

a bolt of frightening
behind the tresses of leaves hiding my eyes again..

incoherent tapping of signals
a morse code of flames into a netherworld

so cold the landscape of longing inside the volcano nobody sees
never has really seen its true light of day

your laughter filters youth-infused through my being
like a ripple of an ice-cream flavor yet to be mixed

as they have in heaven's quarters
where I long to be..

brrrr...


snow-capped mountain
air so crisp
neat lines
nosetip gets sleety touch

warm inside
cosy in here
with memory-touches
of rain

so
here's a clear and crisp dispatch
abiding little dispute -

amidst the falling snow
on coldened hands
and needed fingertips
a brush of temperate smiles
all hid and bundled up
in ready bows
just for you

smile a while
you never know
when the sun may catch your dial

Setting off a rollicking charge… like a waiting rocket to countdown
Solo pugilist in the ring… lancing darts at butterflies in cloistered air

10…. 9….  8….

Boxed in from all sides… whichever way turning… meets unsettling walls
Notes unseen and unheard… magic windows stripped away… acrylic drips dry

7….   6…..    5….

Tap runs on… letting of foundation-blood…no fear nor fret… yet exacts converse
Gentle persuasion to reach shores… hard credence yet so true… all in good time

4….  3….  2….

One vision
Two hearts
Three kisses..
Forever :)


No countdown needed....ever
Count to one…only
and breathe...
It’s all ok


all in good time...

the dragon soars . . . with hidden swords
the reverend knows the hand of an emperor
in the palm of a boy’s kindness
an old secret that nobody’s meant to know
his life in the spiky balance
who took it?

red healing sand . . . alone
celebrating the child within
crashing white miracles on blue-green motion
every glad step succumbs to cleansing effacement
no-one else there
but the eye of the lens capturing almost all
who took it?

moist dream kept alive . . . gentle pulses
sensing the curve beneath the waves
view obscured by tender energy
waiting for clarity to come
other things must fall and leave things stark
for the circle to keep turning
who took it?

and who took the smiles from the face
I've come to love?

open your ******* eyes

and see how you freeze-frame yourself in silly grandeur
all captured in the height of cool splendor à la mode
brandishing badges of recognition
and epaulettes of faux likes so heavy
the stoopid jacket wears you down



you're willing to manhandle all your graces
and throw them out like pigswill
while they shine like pearls  - covered



message slipped to tired waitress
while a spiritually dead cowboy drinks from drying puddle in desert
and you siphon thru the longest straw
from the sky
all the deepest blues