I've been trying to poet off and on
now for awhile - but it's hard for a guy
like me, born and raised in small towns.

I've never really learned to swear,
not like a poet anyway. Not like Bukowski.
I mean, what kind of poet would

the world expect me to be? Except that
I'll admit I can drink with the best.
A Huffstickler I'm not, or a Bukowski,

or Etter, or Kerouac - guys who knew the
big towns, the *****, the dives, the rehabs,
the back alleys, park benches, soup kitchens,

flop houses, drug pushers — Humm, come to
think of it, we got all those here. But not
the all-important big town poet attitude.

I'm just this hick, delusional perhaps,
trying to fill a blossoming hole inside
of me that grumbles and claws for more,

and there's gotta be more to life than this crap.
In poeting I used to try and rhyme, like as
in "poor" and "*****", but there's

no rhyme to life, just grab it and clench.
Just life, death, burial and maybe a little
something for the dog afterwards.

The preacher says there's more,
the devil tells me to forget it,
(I'll listen to him occasionally).

So, for me, I'll probe a little deeper and
scrutinize a little harder, perhaps drink a
little heavier, and maybe find a plug

out there that'll fill the hole inside me.
Maybe even put it in words.
Become a poet.
--

Go out and change the world;
Only you can change you. Show
Others Kindness and end the hate.
Differences makes us unique.

Together is the way
Only way we can make this world

Better.
Everyone has their own beliefs, opinions, views

And we can agree to disagree--that's okay.
Life will be alright if we all got along.
I** know it ***** and hard sometimes-everyone struggles-it
Varies-person to person, but we'll be okay.
Each day is a new day-So live it like it's the last.

(Happiness happens to when you worry
About you not what others might be doing. Your
Life is yours not others--
Live it your way and forget the rest, but give respect-
Everybody has a right to
Live their own life the way they want.
Understanding all beliefs are out there is okay not
Just your's- No one is perfect, but together-maybe
All of us- can end this
Hate in this world.)

.
                              " Oh
                       grandmother"
                     she said,  "what
                    big ears you have"
                    "All the better to
                      hear  you  with
                      m y dear." "But
                      gr and  mother,
                      w hat  big  eyes
                      you have. " "All
                      the  better to se
                      e you with""But
                      gra n d mother,
                      what     a   b i  g
                      mouth  you  h a
                      ve" All  the   bet
                     ter to    eat    you
       o  u  t    w i t h."  "B   u t    g r  a  n d
    m  o  t  h  e  r,  w    h  a  t    a     B   I   G
       ****    y o u         h ave."     " All the
          b etter to               *******  you."

Where the he l did it get to,
eft Ma low for Barce ona
but fai ed to be de ivered.

I ca led the office and they
old me  uck somewhere
e se and stop comp aining.

Just now at the traffic  ights
I saw a driving schoo  car
with a  earner and a big
etter in red on the back !

Keep *Being A mouthed chord
Knuckle's Brace Acute angles, hoping to feel safe
Knots Bring Anguish to a man with no patience
Knit Better Antlers if *you want to survive in the wild
Kings Bombed Acceptance eager to heap on seconds, thirds
Knees Borrow Answers when shaved, scratched stiff
Knock Bravery Around and it will spin, dizzy and sick
Know Broken Angel's and in time jazz will sound like warm Yeager poured over January ice

It only takes a second to notice you
A Smile, a minute to talk to you
An hour to know you, A day to fall in love
But will take forever to forget you,
until when we're in the heavens above

In the middle of the night, I call your name
And when I dream, it's so real that they can be one and the same
When I close my eyes, I see your smile
I remember your touch, That I long for a while

Some feelings, you just can't control
Things, no matter how big or small
Are the catalyst for a Love to Grow
Better or worse, it has it's own way to go
Left or right, no matter which path be taken
Unsaid, but Love can never be mistaken.

O Dear,
O Dear,
won't you meet me
in the broom closet,
to discuss politics.
This is not trick,
it'll be etter in there,
there's nothing to fear
& no one will bother us,
'cause we have such a ***** office.

my neighbour is having a solitary moment
with a wee bonfire in the backyard...
don't ask me... i watched his father trim the grass
a few hours ago...
maybe he's burning that...
or... whatever the reason... it's in the corner
of my eye... and the flame is big...
and small enough... that.. if warranted...
would make a great... theatre of soliloquy...
i'm yet to see a shadow enlarged
and gesticulating that it's talking...
with a raised arm... the other arm playing
the gratified ballerina when the applause comes...
hand entombing the heart...
      i'm yet to see a skull hamlet & co.
             "moment"...
                       so that's my neighbour...
i'm perched on a windowsill sitting on a folded
leg...
           and trying to crackle my throat
like a perched crow...
                the jay bird is of the same family...
        it's a crackle... i'm pretty sure the bird becomes
its new: "revised" distinct when bound to flight...
it's very hard to find...
boredom and existential exhaustion as...
synonyms... however back you look down the
entymological route...
   i couldn't have scribble: if only...
     i couldn't have scribbled this out of...
borne from a compliment to make "boredom":
a necessity...

          perhaps i am... existentially exhausted...
wouldn't you be?
if i were drinking some kalimotxo...
               or 20 beers... there would be an incremental
effect being felt...
which is what makes drinking a fun:
a social... something to borrow from:
"celebration": disinhibition?
                           only because of this one series
drama: sharp object... which made...
led zeppelin somehow "cool" again...
   in the evening... which didn't make it to...
the: the best of - led zeppelin double **** album...
either...
           so my neighbour is having a bonfire...
and there's nothing eerie about the silence...
esp. when there's a humming...
a fire is talking... but it's not the sort of fire
most associated with pine needles...
pine cones... and ancient oak...
           so he's doing that... i'm smiling... perched...
and drinking ms. know-it-all *****...
and... that's the problem with *****:
you have to wait for it... then again:
merely waiting is not a desirable affair...
and preoccupying myself with: "something else"
for a span of 20 minutes...
       waiting for a k.o. instead getting to play
the fiddle of grand itch-maestro with...
a if it isn't a cat nicknamed by schrodinger...
then all bets are on Pavlov...
                   but it's such a tiresome debacle...
had i made a video and had it... (x, y, x) of traction...
yadda-yadda...
          all the drama: soap-opera i could have
enjoyed... an imaginary street...
with imaginary squabbles...
        but none of the very translate-worthy
orientations of minor frictions...
         the bonfire is dying off...
the fire hasn't been fed dry pine needles...
or pine cones... or merchant oak retelling the story
of marco polo and... to the fire with me:
none of this... mahagonny sheen:
i fancy... a rough stone turned into a marble-esque
sheen?
                         it might just serve
a wooden hammer... to tell the difference between...
well... my initial presumption...
should lady justice be coupled with a gorgon?
lady justice and medussa?
  iustitia (who holds a sword and scales)
& prudentia (who holds a mirror and a snake)...

perhaps if Iustitia is blind-folded...
prudence can have her mouth stitched up?

but i'm still waiting for the ***** to kick in...
and so much for "fun" trying to find oneself:
with all the readily available knowledge and...
not... not: plagiarizing...
     or "jumping ship"...

   there truly isn't some sort of worthy compenation...
the served platter: the swedish table of...
all the foods presented... and you come
and stab at the nibbles... in a congregation of
those: given the advent of eating where:
no heart or its content is of a debate-worthiness...

beside the ancient roman glutton...
and... the well trained oesophagus...
          and regurgitation... and what was once
the celebrated icon: the snake...
would sooner or later have to be replaced
with a tapeworm...

    the serpent has had its day... and marble...
time... for the lesser creature... then again: perhaps not...

in "celebrating a drink of *****":
well... so much for... hunting a mammoth...
or... sitting beside a bonfire and...
telling stories or: dancing ****-naked
and dancing...

         i see no circus(es): beside the heaps and
heaps of bread: a character "assassination"
in writing...
sooner i'll catch a glimpse of a ballet choreographer
pirouette...
than know the difference between:
spinning an uncooked egg...
an egg soft-boiled and an egg: hard-boiled...

a racing track... equivalent to...
being hypnotized by... a spinning vinyl...
because... yore! that beacon of yawn rummaging
in the background of ambience...
and refrigerator drizzle of:
when falling rain became infused with...
electricity...

- alt. to "say" shish-kebab (let's be swabian...
and... "forget" the hyphen...)
like a toothless dog...
indeed... sometimes the tip of the tongue
teases the palet(t)e... hard or soft...
but sometimes the tongue-tip teases the top
frontal incissors: teeth...

where is the concept of the: rhapsodic...
the rattle-R... the quick... imitation
juggling of the tongue against the palete...
where the breath that involves
the uvula to swing like:
"for whom the bell tolls"?

                   do you see anyone taming
a ******* coch draig... anywhere?
this? this being "this"... "vicinity" of da-sein?
there-being: there's (there is)...
          on the moon... the alpaca trail...
in el dorado... in how the zulu tribe announced
a pristine: sod it...
          if only bulls were used instead
of horses: all that grit and armour...
notably of the cataphract...
                       if only bulls were used...
but: who's here to "rewrite" history
of that already, past... and inevitable?

the terrible has... already happened...
               í hiechyd ac tragwyddoldeb!
                          to health and eternity!
chiral: no...
     cheaper: no...
              i will find the "hark"...
   chosen... no no no...
                    similar (soft) to kid...
hybrid esque...
                 that "h" is not a surd...
verbatin 'e hie'....

                Olav! Dmitri!
Igor! meine hoonds!
                  ч - cheap... ah... roaming
in and around Midlothian...
                    loch ness! no prefix to suit up
a tux into... comes as a "surprise"
with the suffix: a loch...
                       х: hardly... k, s or c... or z...
xenophone: yuppy... aye aye...

              trag-wyd-dol-deb!
  zee velsh: sometimes the added same,
consonant... nurse! scalpel...
makes way for perfecting the syllable
incision... like so... trag-wyd-dol-deb!

   the lights have been dimmed on the tablet...
the battery life's longevity: expoinential explosion...
it takes so much little electric conversion
to feed the sap of sound...
that it takes to create blinking
and not blinking: murmur:
picadilly circus phantasmagoria of u.v. -

you can be crowned king deaf...
fall asleep with the radio... when the lights
are dimmed...
       no sooner me: no sooner you...
but... i'd much prefer the sound
of a fox at night...
than teeth gnashing... frothing: idly hungry...

all and no science: "or"...
all and no politics... "or" all of politics and all
of science... and most probably:
when the priest would wear a gown...
and the vatican remained neutral...
      
       etc. etc.              beside the vote:
or: woe... or woo...
        and such is the suffix association
with:      -man...
                    that there's some sexually
pervasive: attachment of either:
wooed by woe...
or... or...           to be woed by a woo...
  the beta gang would be singing:
bigmouth strikes again in a placebo
rendition...
                 because when you want to pirate
the original: it better sound just
a little bit more than then most...
    effeminate male available...
a morrisey will do jack ****...
you have to go full-tilt hindu and back
into transgender with
                                  a brian molko...

or at least that's how i concern myself
when managing to sit through
a production of tchaikovsky's ballet...
   beside the feet: what am i looking at?
spandex... the bulge?
     like it might be some covert name
for a battle, crisp on a piece of paper:
before the puff of a battle of crisps goes: pop!
in between the fudge of marrow
and the shrapnel of bone...
              here... i find my throne...
in a memory that's at best:
an amnesia...

             and somehow lodged in:
the... would-be... renting bums of dreams...
the squaters... the dream circuit...
when... in 1973... england drew 1 - 1
with poland...
                when being... just 7 years old
from 1966... an epitome for a very befitting
ending...
a closure... like any other...
             grandp'ah once said... once said...
and great-grandp'ah once said... once said...
sure as **** the logbow men of the 100 year war
weren't english... last time i heard
that churchill "mishandled" his V...
the original V voz viz zee velsh...
             index and ******* at
the fwench knights... since... if caught...
they'd cut 'em off!

                 V-salute! salute!
                           the blitzkireg overture...
         compound! no spaces in between: no hyphens!
der blitzkriegouvertüre...
        
   "together" come "together:... the disenfranchised
speculation of... what it was like...
to borrow from the first sequence
of the 20th century...

       and pass it into... what was it like...
acid neon: blonde... the culprit of bringing
the "congregation"
   past-participle: a romania a yugoslavia...
and a poland... nerve-riddled lithuania
and whittle estonia: etc.

      that grand boag bear o' ruzzia...
             wit' its ever persistent euro-fetish...
windows! windows! we need to see!
kandinsky translated into wind!

       on this democratic canvas...
           on this democratic canvas...
einz! zwei! drei!
     raz! dwa! trzy!
                   hey presto:
               on this demokratischleinwand!
meine stimme...
   meine: boo!
              meine: ghulrückzug!
               ich: bin zu sein gehört... ja?!
  
          this grand idea of a(n) european family:
get together...
   under the banner of: der VierteReich...
                the penned scribbles of
could always replace the boom-boom-'ombs...
and the brit-thai... would sit it out:
gob-smacked into shackles
and halos and angelic wings found
in the replica bargain of dry twigs...

the english sovereignty found among...
romanian root and fruit pickers...
              and if i too weren't lazy enough...
i'd have managed to find an atom-bomb...
glued my shadow to a wall...
and started a macaques' dance of freedom
from the magpie's cackle...
#metoo!

                   the cure and depeche mode made
it under the iron curtain...
the smiths? sorry... but i'm twice as likely
to appreciate them...

     the bass rummaging from fleetwood mac's
the chain...
and the bass rummaging from
pulp's wickerman...
            
                              canys y Çymraeg!
r. s. thomas...
                 that... battle of the season...
who is to know... beside auld lang syne:
whether the scots 'ave some gaelic in 'em...
except for the orthography: the diacritical & dialect
of somewhere akin to Glasgow...

  - that "unnecessary" war within the confines
of: the proud and selected: "empirical" and by invitation:
the trope... the welsh are...
are a silenced minority... and all that would
require "us" to confine "us" to "do"...
would be...
to stop thinking of england...
as a nation...
and... australia... or h'america...
as... a diaspora...

              clearly: "they" want to be at best:
and at worst: the distinct: genesis:
valkyrie first raiders...
in that non-essential war:
if the 1st world war wasn't...
seigl pandering lizzy...
sweden wuz neutralz...

                      woz she'iz notz?
            a pwetty pwetty: cobweb riddled face
like that of chris cornell...
               glue eyed but a background all
lacking in dimension for the sort
of immediacy of a curtain! cobain...
     yes: this is me... ******* on and dancing
on a grave:
last time i chequered my patience...
i found... the al fresco museum in a graveyard...
and the 3rd party artist working
on the marble... by gesture of wind and rain
and sun...

             how: exhausted by...
you cannot write an opera in italian...
to later translate it into german...
nor... clarity! sha! shtil!
                you can't... translate syllables:
like so... from... a japanese haiku...
into a... at best... a hiatus! a european sorting
factory of minor minded details...
of: adventure when licking a seal
on an envelope or...
a footnote that becomes a peacock
and a post-stamp when... detailing the affairs
of a piece of paper being governed by:
grieving having paired with it...
the metsphor / metaphysical aid of wings...

flake me: sire...
     boxing champ burroughs and all those
lost narratives that will never make it:
market a slow attention-span;
that's already available...

                          the muse my muse...
past the bob dylan and dylan thomas...
the priest and a cardiff...
        if only cardiff could boast akin
to how edinburgh can boast about
the old town and the royal mile...
and arthur's seat... and the craggs...

and... what women want...
mereditch brooks would never become
the next: the next to what next
of a... alanis morissette...
              never becoming... or being...
but all of that: for a continued cultural presence
of being in the recital rubric?
thank god for that...

quiet frankly? the la's": there she goes...
a little bit... a "little bit" irrelevant...
when you listen to the whole album...

the trouble with falling in love...
      is the trouble of: falling out of "love"
with one's mother...
                pursuit of the details
of a foetus... and all those details
of an unread book that staged its "fright"
on a bookshelf for circa close to a century...

             welcome party! or not so welcome!
i'd love to hear more about
welsh nationalism... since: on topic...
the scots have forgotten gaelic...
because of glasgow and being: oh so all
so-over pristine & perfect...
at least the welsh! oh god...
the welsh! on these isles!

hyphen! enter!
cymeradwyaeth

               cym-era-dwy-aeth
                      cym-erad-wyaeth

applause!­ and i'm trying: so trying...
to live for a liszt and lady gaga
as a summary of the jealous eyes
thst gave birth to bitter-tears...
yeah... fame...
and the cosmopolitan web of c.c.t.v.
"fame"...
the one already arrived at...
and the one pampered... with glitches
                               of editorial staff...

gu an cuimreach!
   - the escapade of keeping strict rigour / rubric
of being fed by adverts...
to have a buying impetus...
but not... the selling / haggling impetus...
from the cheap-*** moors and
the myriad of marrakesh:
   the berber: a latin for: hard-time:
quitting-time blues of...
            there are people still involved with
the a, z, via x q and... no readily available:
ph and th...
         because they were never...
the sort of brits... about to celebrate...
being conquered by ancient rome...
and ancient rome bulimia...
somewhere "circa": the baltic sea...

               - there's a "need" to be "coincidental":
pristine the developed mandibles
and the surname akin to singh...
        or... khan...
                   double that... for whatever reason...
and call it: Wales...
and then... the english-speaking conundrum:
"conundrum"...
and at best... nostalgia for 1990s
h'americana cultural export of:
fwends...

                    then: at best...
Wales is... Silesia... but at worst...
                    Ruthenia... and / or... Galicia...
that now Masovia is...
and how the Prussians were once
the fabled lot of the germanic left-over pieces
of a people: "******" by the standard
of teutons... or... what part of the glorification
of ancient rome...
oh, right... the parts not making
the germans the antagonists...
the "paraphrase" of the unexplored...

                    that only the english...
were to be so proud of...
a much later "digest" of... to have a "comfort"
within the confines...
last time i checked... there was pride in being
graffiti riddled as the afghanistan of
the ancient period...

             the unique history of island-dwelling
folk...
that they are... and i... can write
in their lingo: as... being devoid...
of... root...
              what is the great wall of china...
when what's already available...
given the la manche...
                                                       ­                 is...      
is not...
                 such a most pristine choice
of gentleman... and all!
and all! and all were tio be advocates!
and vote bound to stress!
king and country and the pickwick society
of: loitering gimps for worth of letters!

half a face divulging shadow...
half of which encompasses a play:
a ghost riddled... humanoid loiter
of exaspersation... and none... which,
would be most available...
to loiter... for the apple of Judas and
tht clinging... #30 pieces of silver...

thus wed: las vegas english...
      loitering actors' spew:
awound an Ilfowd 'n' Bawking 'n'
Dagenham... yo popsickle
'ipe and joy-c-c / jewc...
or whatsemfwench callz: sauz...
via dat: zu-not-my-*******-zoo.. ju...
plonkers & sons. (available)
jue: not juice 'ough...
******* kite-fliers!

            talks a cokckey slang like
a cherry... and that's...
the last left-over before mr. bangladesh
    before: quckie does one speakin'
"smart" did anyone any 'ood...

'oved up a 'arry 'n' the 'etter 'alf
of the... non-essential...
sounding "smart"
in cockeny: to be made export:
"loading essentials"...
is... hardly... the right sort of
***** avenue of:
escape from cwawddyff:
you... poke you poke my eyez
out... you... better start sounding
cockney shmartz...
eh: ja: herr?!

       **** it... whatever...
elt'z and etc. this bogus party back to...
and so call itz...
a limboz partez!

What Better Yearn

But for the lake Isle
with such a title, I do
wonder how else he
could have portrayed
a' refuge for freedom'.

I have been there, no,
not just in his state of
mind, but on the strand,
near that little moat of
arbored earth, in water.



ps.

in case you missed it
the abstruse subliminal
is hidden in the title.

ps x 2

W.B.Y.

look again,

Yeats.

B etter days please come my way
I can't hold on much longer
P lease I pray everyday
O h how I wish I was stronger
L ord I need your help
A nd for the pain  to go away it just keeps
R epeating the very next day.

Det skjer
Altfor mange ganger
Når letter etter lyssen
Vi finner bare mørke
Går det langsomt
Ut fra den plassen
Vi fant det første
Verken slutter
Eller begynner

Ikke hvit
Men
Den følelsen
Bare etter det