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Marshes and meadows
Sunshine and shadows

Gentle ripples on the calm river
Foaming rapids in white water

The jungle echoes in the semi-darkness
while daylight creepy-crawlies clear the mess.

Peasants toiling and pheasants scratching
as I spy a cricket somersaulting

The cactus the desert's prickly femme-fatale
elsewhere a lone leaf floats in the canal

Prairie dogs go popping
while hares go hopping
and ladies go shopping

Swans have formed a V-line
The flora too is divine
as bees nosedive in bee-line.

Seista seizes birdlovers too
Thus they miss out on the hoopoe's song
For the hoopoe, it does not sing on cue
since a bird may sing anytime to woo.

What a medley eh of scenery
Murky eve and dawning greenery

Ah, wherever you go nature's so panoramic
While we make and take pictures
God actually makes what's so picturesque!
Michael John Apr 2018
a hoopoe flew to  silhoutte
with  snail or such lark..
pivotted a proud head
a grin like a wise  monarch..

it´ s variegated plummage
blackened by twilight´
sigh..
side to side it´ s mischievous
eye..!

and all a rush now away
up and away!
savoured it´ s catch at
the end of the day..

home to it´s roost
in a flurry of detailed
be-
the swallow and hushed
agave..
Michael John Nov 2018
i

let´ s be birds
repulsive creatures
though they saved
my bacon i
on a few
occasions

when in the jungle
when there is silence
lily is jane
i liked hairy women..parenthesis..
i found their gossamed armpits
a delight
fine as a bird´ s underbelly
ah yes birds
prophosize the future
so when you hear their
happy little voices in the
morning

ii

excuse me i am trying
not to go into shock
i was bitten by something
my hand is bright red
and pained tingling
runs amok..
in the jungle
there are so many death..parenthesis

iii

a few years i was bitten
by a snake
i was trying to help
and grabbed it´ s pretty tail
you will be happier over there
yonder green..
but the ungrateful little *******
sunk his fangs into my hand..
and i eased the back of his delicate
skull like a miracle from god..
and prised his delicate jaw asunder
i thought that will teach me to interfere
put him in the grass..


iv

birds..
let us be..we have a lot of blackcaps..
quite a lot of jays
though it has been years
since i have seen
then hoopoe
i like them
man bird
who does not
love and fear the
waxen wing..
the sparrows laugh
the blackbird like
some gibbet´ s shadow
outside my window
the pyramid
and golden eye
the seagulls don´ t care..
sometimes what sit of
goldfinches arrive like
gatecrashers and it is
a thunderbird..lol
****..we all panic like
detroit..
i watch the crane
like dinosaur
slide across the sky..
there is a stray parrot
abroad
our ducks were murdered
one windy night..
but the parrot silent
once i thought about a robin
and it appeared
i thought that weird
and it said well
we have some vulture
lily stop that
no
we
don´ t
....

v
In the posterity of what he compromised of his double mortality; one of these would bifurcate from the fearsome tyranny that subsequently dragged him down as he yearned to free himself from her purging. However, it was understood that he would have to retreat from his ditopikótitas or bilocality that was lifting him from the rigging of the Shamaim, which serenely reserved a Myein or arcane cloister for him until he detached himself from the Olympo that made him experience how to achieve his maximum unification with the Christianismós that would transport him with his subsidiary death from confinement, being a fleeting ascetic exercise with Orpheus and Dionisio and being able to access the unitive way of contravening the Myein or confinement of himself, until when he transfigured with his Himation into locks of gold they follow him transporting towards an illuminating purgative construction. Vernarth had already indulged in paroxysmal serials that repeatedly vanished from the stigma indulged in the non-rational parapsychological that bilocated extra-sensory, between the same helots present and ambassadors of Orpheus and Dionysus.

After drinking the fermented Ionian among those present, a Thuellai glimpsed him with such impetus that the glasses that broke in the same act, thus the lutrophores became weightless among this eternal battle between the eared handles of the carquesio, daring him to combine it with the rains of the tertiary zero that was settling on the Carquesians, and colliding with each other with those of their acolytes. Vernarth felt an abrupt alienation of the Myein towards a hyper-reality, but at the same time very aware that when the glasses crashed, they were made in thousandths of spaces in the realms that were detached from the hyper verbalized quantum with lexicons that emanated in the Duoverse way. ; That is to say, plenty of inspirations among the meditative and suspicious toasts when pretending to inherit from the Olympo, respecting and leaving the depositaries calm, noting that if one of them when grabbing the Lutrophorus had hirsute and hairy scarlet bristles activated in the back area of his hand right not hairy. Therefore, Vernarth realized that they were canons of the Kerberos in fact, and not of Orpheus and Dionysus, giving an immediate ovation of obedience and sudden minimal in the neglect of the place. This mechanism had broken down from a monotheistic hypersensitivity when he learned that there was a huge abyss of asceticism that distanced him from the underside of a possible cabal that supremely raised him with roots of hyper-meditative and illusory alienation that transferred him to the new reel of Hecate, which he reverberated with spells as he saw that his Kerberos distended from some hoopoe that lightened on Hecate's shoulders as they usurped Hestia's Olympian oikonos. Behold, Hestia's acquiescence was always close in Vernarth's metaphysical incursion, in such a way that the aviforme Hoopoe duplicated itself on Vernarth's shoulder blades, after emigrating from all the regions that were unknown to him, only from this ******* that is only possible optically sensitive in each hoopoe, and in each Vernarth shoulder after the transmigration of the great litters of blatant nocturnal Athena, not being condemned souls of Athena; but rather an owl with its wings wounded at its apices by splinters of coagulated serum from the very elytra of the Little Owl, a product of the severed of Hephaestus when cutting the skull of Zeus with his ax. Here is in this sub-quantum submission of how it implies that Vernarth takes himself from the elytra of the Little Owl, in order to impel him and achieve the conquest of the flight to Patmos where all his comrades were waiting for him, transforming his body into cells of Glaux of the Greek root γλαύκος (Glauko, bright towards an Ohr Hassadim), ibid of the same Hellenic as he traveled with the wings of the lustrous news that accompanied him, to ensure his return from the nebulosity to Ohr del Shamaim himself, pointing to the death throes of immobility of the team of oxen, which would never move from the wheels to take Lucia of Syracuse to the brothel, without the consent of Hashem.

Behold, Vernarth also within his ethnobotanical oikonos began to come off his second death as Astragalus Glaux with the sharp flowers of his garden famous in his allegories and belongings of herbaceous and confined litanies, which were the same ones that resisted his machinations by splitting them the calcaneus to its hoplites at the Arbela Site, unimpeded by some Astragalus Glaux that suffered in the substrate beyond its narrow ellipses, grouping them in the bleeding calcaneus of its phalangists, where the same length of the leaves served as peduncles dissecting and crystallizing the wounds of his faithful warriors. As a dry evergreen leaf, it was disconnected from the Glaux capsule that shone brightly from the constellation of Orion, and from Barnard's flowered loops, resembling par excellence the shape that extended to the cubic dome of the feet of all its soldiers. Falangists when at once they showed him once that they healed with the healing effect of Astragalus.

This sub-quantum could be attributed to a presumed stalking subplot, separating him in alienation but at the same time benefiting the concentrated attraction towards Sudpichi's coordinates in the Transverse Valleys from where his mother appeared to him from the Castle of Horcondising. His mother does not ask to feel part of some interference in the final awakening of his parapsychology, much less obstructing his liberation from the purgation that was already a concrete reality. Behold Luccica; her mother embodied herself in Thetis, giving her the imaginary role to interpellate in the final ceremony of Himation. Since Thetis constituted the sacred voluntary value of the Hellenes, towards a policy of agreeing her body in submitological assessment that would be legitimized once from the subsidiary body when it was split from its second incidental death of Olympo, already prepared to warn that Hephaestus had severed it. the head to Zeus when he prevented the birth of Athena, but he had two depository heads of the ingredient of Cronion-Zeus remaining until finally in this conclusive edict Luccica could receive his extemporaneous soul after being freed from the retrograde parapsychology that was re-launched in Piacenza. This exerts manumissions that are stubborn of his own will, but exercised through other deities, here Luccica had already learned that Vernarth was released from his kathartírio or Purgation, generating reconciliation with the church of Smyrna that had just been the final epilogue in Elegy VIII, as a concern of liberation such as Vernarth from the Chains of the purgation, as was what Tethys undertook when liberating Zeus from the chains with the drama of Fifth of Smyrna, from where some hold remained in the arms of the mother Vernarth with a duplicate of Achilles, but being Vernarth who was acclaimed with blood brother of all the lineage of the Heroes of the Triumph of the Hellenic Death.
Lid of Myein
Michael John Feb 17
this morning in the agave sat
a hoopoe and good as its
word it said hoopoe and i said
hoopoe in return and
i have n´t seen you aound for a long time..?

should you talk to wild animals?
i don´t know but no harm done
i looked to the concrete (like
very discrete) and when i looked back again
it was gone..

then i notice john cooper clarke in the
guardian
saying on about the technological-
honest as the day is long (and not unlike
a hoopoe himself..)

i like the computer as it
fecilitates creativity-
and then i remembered electricity
and as the lighting failed
we sang and huddled together by the

candlelight..
then i went to the supermarket
and tried for a discount card but had to
apply on line..
and made some boiled potatoes
-thought about a blackbird..

— The End —