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Michael John Sep 13
do you know what i mean
i try to write that
some detailed dream
coins that miss a hat

that send them scurrying
i wanted to shout
the birds laughing
i wished for knout..

ii

which was a weapon
the tsarists beat the cossacks with
to no avail
in the morning i see sails

little white on the great blue
it is sweet..i want my ashes sprinkled
on the med..consumed by fish
ate by gulls

shat into the earth from which
a tree grows and love begins..
is that asking too much..
the knout was made from some hard wood..

iii

lily says
she has nothing to say
in the uk

our hitting implement
was birch to which the russians
attatch certain romantic qualities

can´t remember what..
klimpt liked them
personally,i don´t think

hitting anyone helps
then,the swallows fly by
then, i check out green

and have a shower
and practise my jazz classical
songs..

on the hill the cacti
in a summer that burned i
too hot for the flies
think about keith haring..

and have some eggs which
survived the shelfs demise
i thought it was the ceiling..
frightened the **** out of us..

eggs good..i am reading
adrian mole the cappachino years
which is charming

and amusing and an interesting
historical document..the ninties were
rather evasive somehow..

i played the girl from ipanema
and though it grinds
f major-

and some fancy *** runs
i tried to make it cry
fine woman..

i got into it..
the middle eight kicks
her scent

some what evasive
the city stops
a dream begins..

and then look out again and
think what to do today
and write some poetry..
Michael John Sep 13
lily looking out the window
while the little birds look in
she says she has nothing to say
the sky is sin..

it is blind o but it has
everything
omnipotent and mute
a wing..

a feather in the dust..
is a trickle and blown
back and forth
it is god so..
Michael John Sep 12
the price of fame, lily muses
little birds sing through the letter
box..she book marks..

what is she reading-?red dragon,
an idiosyncratic thriller
(the first outing for hannibal lecter..)

a serial killer inspired by blake´s
the great red dragon and the woman
clothed with the sun..

evil in the mouth and a mad grandmother
it could be familiar..
in the family..

it is in the reflection-o mirror
it is all in our past-just see
what we will find there..
Michael John Sep 11
reminiscent of the dinner table
as a child..
the future fortold
happily and sadly, ignored
the ketchup label my friend..

ask me what is in it..
and i mean the real ****!
you could compose a suicide note
or become a poet..
wait..waiting..

for the red  to flow..
hitting the bottle so..
bap..bap..bap..!
stick a knife o
in..offer the tongue..
lie under the ******* sun
and prey..

ii

sun on crow
his shiny eye so
twirling..

in the letter box
lily..?
i have offering

a poem -what do you think?
i sent it away
still waiting..

iii

your dissolute life has it´s
foundings in the infant
dining experience..?

join the club little bird one
love and eating..
death and isolation..

chips fishfingers and peas
the british way
bread and butter..and tea..
Michael John Sep 10
too nought-nought..
but lily says what
she likes about poetry
is she has her say..?

and the audience is huge!
never before has man spoke to
man..
there could be hope

there may be communication
information like grains of sand..
knowledge and wisdom..wiping
away a tear with a desultory hand..
Michael John Sep 8
lily wipes away a tear
time is fear and we can do nought
one day later and closer
to nought..
Michael John Sep 2
maybe we are similar
over her toast and coffee
when i refer to myself
as a n-

i mean someone put
down (by society)
as artists sometimes are..
nothing to do with colour..

like van gogh and all the rest..
mailer in the sixties coined the phrase
a white n
-
to be clear..

ii

everything is open to mis-interpretation
some can not say money
some may not say anything..

honey is honey
anyway you see
lily wipes a tear away..
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