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mark john junor Dec 2013
her subtleties and jewels
are billboarded for the drawing of crowds
but the faces sketched by the grease lights are not
the kind that such an exquisite artwork of womanhood
like her should bring out on such a soft spring night
so they fold her up and pack her away
careful not to crease her fine linen soul
and place her neatly away in her cedar chest
knowing i will sneak her out later for wine and ballroom dancing
bring her back to the circus of the obscene
just as dawn creeps into the cool crisp sky

a single tear in her eye for her lost teenage years
when she only wanted to rebel a bit
but spent the time posed neatly like a porcelain doll
she was a lifesize lovesick reproduction in technicolour of herself
all thouse years ago
better to have gone away
better to have been a roadside companion
of the weary walkers
than grown old as one of the window decorations of the world
shes there now in the sun faded backdrop to the shopping season
but ill rescue her someday
well live in somerset and sell glass trinkets

her introspection is the short film version
but her poems are the epic novels
of such sweet romance
it sways the most hardened to the tender embrace
to the love of soul to soul kisses

she weaves such a tender tale
but her nights are spent alone
watching a winter moon
cross the summer sky
her hand aching for the hand that once held it
aching for the love that abandon her to this fate
i hope someday to fill that void in her world
wedged between the cardboard cowboy's forever smile
and the caped crusader sleeping off his drinking binge
hodgepodge...that's it...hodgepodge! that's the name for my next cat...hodgepodge!
Adam Zalt Jul 2010
Kabloom, bang, boom!
Here comes the gloom,
Zoom, tomb, doom.
Someone untangle this lifesize loom.
Property of AJZ Inc. A company owned by Adam Zalt.
Last night I dreamed of you again.
We were together in a crowd,
And I turned and walked away
into a silent, sunny forest.

Trees knotted into strange shapes,
Like lifesize bonsai.
I struggled over swollen roots
Exuding damp moss,
And slipped down an incline,
Into your arms.

You had followed me there,
Caught me, saved me,
But you dropped my hand as I slipped it into yours
And walked on, talking, expecting me to follow.

I’m done following, though,
And turned immediately,
Struggling on over the resistant landscape,
Over a ridge and across another of those bulging, snakelike trees.
I didn’t think you’d follow,
But again, there you were.

I asked you why you’d dropped my hand.
I know what I want, you replied
But I don't think you do,
And I'm trying to do the right thing.

I find myself wanting to ask, why? Why now?
Why, when I am over the confusion and the pain,
When I am past the most dangerous phase of withdrawal.

But, oh, that’s right – it didn’t really happen.
And I wasn’t really there.
mark john junor Nov 2014
she sat in the beautiful sunlight
with deeper wishes in her eyes but
her young heart dances to the sweeter song
so she asked me to hold her hand
till the darkness had passed
now shes hot on the trail of true creation
down to earth with all natural heartfelt ways
bends me round her legendary smile
and while writing a freehand verse of sunshines laughter
she paints a lifesize version of
tomorrow's beautiful sunrise into the eyes of her self portrait
she is knee deep in the mud of inspiration
the persistent sunshine of the soul lights her way
the enduring hope of a hand held guides her path
its beauty can be seen in her self portrait
Jonny Angel Mar 2014
Lifesize chess pieces
We camped along the river
I kissed your navel
Gaffer Mar 2016
I was told you might be able to help me.
I can try.
You’ve read my notes.
No, I never read notes from professionals, they tend to use big words that require dictionaries.
So you know nothing about me.
Afraid not.
So I’m wasting my ******* time being here.
I don’t know.
What the hell do you mean you don’t know.
Just what I say, I don’t know till you tell me.
Well, see if you took the time to read my ****** notes, you would know.
So tell me.
Can you not just look at my notes now.
No.
*******, I was ******* attacked, does that help you.
It’s a start.
I was *****.
Now I see why you’re angry.
I’m angry at the ******* getting away with it, I’m angry at the court for letting the ******* get away with it.
You should be, you’ve been ***** twice.
I want to **** him, that’s all I think about, 24/7.
How would you do it.
I would stab the *******.
Do you want me to show you how to do it quickly.
You would do that.
Yes, this is the knife you would use, hold it.
Okay show me.
Now before I do this, I do have to explain something to you. He will be dead, and you certainly will go to prison for a long time.
I know, but at least he’ll be out of my mind.
Afraid not, if anything he’ll be in your mind even more. Everyday you’re locked up he’ll be ****** you over and over again.
Fucksakes, is this my life forever now.
No, follow me, bring the knife with you.
This is a lifesize bad guy, I’m going to draw a circle on him, I want you to plunge the knife into the circle.
You are kidding aren’t you.
Indulge me.
Okay then, here goes.
Great, the knife went in four inches, you’ve killed him.
Is that it.
No, now I want you to tense your whole body, and when I shout ****, you attack that bad guy, and you don’t stop. I want to hear you screaming, I want you to plunge that knife in as many times as you can, I want to see you crawling on the floor physically exhausted. You ready.
Ready.
****.
Six  minutes eleven seconds, a new record. How do you feel.
I’m ******* angry, but it’s a different kind of anger, it’s hard to explain.
You’re back in control.
Yeah, I feel different, but how long will it last.
I’ll not lie to you, they’ll be times when it’ll come back to you, but the mad woman with the knife in her hand will override it.  As you get stronger, it’ll get easier.
Can I be alone with a guy again.
You’re alone with me.
I know, but I’ve got a big knife to protect me, I don’t know if I’ll be allowed to carry it about with me.
Was that a bit of humour.
It was sort of. Can I visit you again, are you allowed to drink with your patients, is that against the rules.
It’s only against the rules if I pay.
Is that your idea of humour, do you want to go for a drink now.
I might get arrested taking you to a bar just now.
No I wouldn’t mention it to anybody.
Actually I was more thinking of your mascara running down your face, your puffy eyes, and how you look like you’ve been in a fight.
Fucksakes you might have said something.
I was leaving it till tomorrow night, gives us something to talk about whilst you’re buying me beer.
You’re not very good in relationships, are you.
What makes you say that.
I don’t know, I just think you get dumped a lot.
Even more to talk about tomorrow night.
You like getting dumped, don’t you.
Sure you’ll sort me out tomorrow night.
I will, I’m going to give you all sorts of advice, change your bad ways,
make you more presentable to the opposite ***.
I see a lot of beer getting bought for me then, look forward to it.
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2020
life, currently... shouldn't be about...
a problem with the internet connection...
or how:
there's no satellite conncetion to the t.v. -
because of "snow"... and "hurricanes"...
but under the prescription of
the government...
  where is... where is indeed:
the replacement fireplace and a druid storyteller?
to keep up with the mr. and mrs. smith
enclosed in:
a quarantine zoo where only the virus
gets... to window-shop: concerning
what next to "wear"?

      trivial details: is anything but so grand
as to gain poetic traction from...
trans-gender activists and those teen
with premature depression antics of:
haiku... not yet a haiku etc.

but my post-soviet laptop works just fine...
it's all these delta korean "smart" whizz-kid
analogies of tablet that are...
feeding the bug of: forgot the cables...

last time i heard that the t.v. box needed
to be connected to the "dial-up" box-of-boxes...
the modem... sprinting to "evolve":
zee hub...
              smart as: the old soviet
manifesto concerning technology...
  if it ain't broke: don't even think about
spaghetti fixing it... sunshine...
and what happened? they went along
and "fixed" it...

                   like they went about fixing
the original... thesaurus rex algorithm of
youtube: that once great platitude of all other
jukeboxes...
   no chance in hell seeing these john peel
suggestion "crop up"...

i had the "audacity" to scribble them down...
once upon a time...

       band / album

beehoover / heavy zoo
        nord skin / secrets of the words
black elephant / cosmic blues
     swamp sessions / a lifesize swamp
1000mods / super van vacation
           ruby the hatchet / aurum
                  greenleaf / trails & passes
  the silver seas / catch yer own train
        sleep / leagues beneath
          spaceslug / lemanis
witch / s.t. (self-titled)
          elder / dead roots stirring
red scalp / rituals
                   castle / welcome to the graveyard
broken bells / s.t.
                        place of skulls / with vision
naxatras / (ep s.t.)
                       UNV nation / s.t.
                 the heavy minds / treasure coast
roma / s.t.
                   fabricantes / la selva incrustada...
savannah / deep shades...
mystic sons / s.t.
          sun of man / s.t.
  weird owl / nuclear psychology
       elbrus / s.t.
                   stonehenge / bunch of bisons
gin lady / electric earth
hey satan / s.t.
                   d d  blood / s.t.
               sonora ritual / dust moment
gnome / father of time
                                       godsleep / coming of age
ordos / house of the dead
mountainwolf / the silk road
               buffalo fuzz / s.t.
                                 black dust / s.t.
                may the fuzz be with you / vol. I
transpanda / goats against humanity
earthless / black heaven
           gorilla pulp / heavy lips
    black willows / samsara
   stone age mammoth / earth born... etc....

what a bullet bite... two short of ******-do'h shucks
when you come back home...
drunk and sober at the same time screaming:
some little ****** of a squinting eye...
****** up the jukebox: now i can't sing...
now i can't dance!

my t.v. needs to be smashed...
and my internet connection is tone deaf
and stone-age to boot...
i'm no trucker and i'm no christian
evangelist minder... for the "ummah"...
or whatever it's called...
i don't bet, yes ma'am...
i pay my dues to the tele-evangelical
god's son: the preacher ma'am...
yis i' 'ere owe...
  the scrutiny of a stamp-collector's
lick a slick and shove it up
the queue into heaven's ear...

         my most mediocre complaints...
a girl sent me a poem and a sketch...
and i'm just... hanging onto sanity's blockers...
steroids... and all those other
goof-*****... and i still want
to make it listening to the La's because...
the Beatles never made it to...
London Calling...
by... the stain... no... wait...
i don't know of a band known as the stain...
perhaps i should...

bad internet access and bad t.v.:
because winnie the p'ooh shot down a satellite
thinking it was: an asteroid heading
to hit Beijing...
the two: must be given a space-trap
of confusing intelligence officer:
blah-blah traps...

       i guess my mother should be dying...
my neighbour should be...
doing something...
dinosaur jr.., should be seeing
a revival... and a wish to dislodged nirvana
in the grundge charts... along with sonic youth...

but my post-warsaw pact...
this heap of "junk"... this soviety spy of a laptop...
if i wanted... i could probably synonym it
with a ******* microwave oven!
all this proto-plastic toys of...
   better heave: *******'s worth of the edit...
in capitalism: plastic is the new iron!
and all the more clueless...
call-center jihadis who will have you believe...
cables are involved...
connecting the view box for the t.v. to
the modem... the hub...
the "dial-up"...

because... the old octopus of walking about...
with syringes and makeshift veins
and arteries... to the great big brain
of "Omnia"...
                    omni-potent...
    omni-present...
omni-... yes... that litany of the prefixes...
culminating in: Islam Inc. and the female
deity of Omnia...

   wouldn't want to pluck those diamonds
out from their sockets: would we know...
then again... i'd rather see the mouth...
those niqab bound eyes are too filthy...

they pretend to cry i too pretend to see a waterfall...
and then the crocodile comes snappy
right at me...
and... i have to...
pretend he's a pig and a sort of leather belt
that can goes well with any choicest choice
of fine linen: and that not so fine kind...
you can hide pork in leather...
the belt, the shoes...
eh... crocodile crocks are too...
too **** obvious... for "hiding"...

stay inside they said...
  but the t.v. is the new fireplace...
                 and if there's not t.v...
   can life take toward... or rather... can poetry become
this surrogate for petty concerns being
answered in a democratic manner?
what's being love or not being loved...
guarded by a disparity of age:
does it matter whether you're 34 or 74?

i just want to know...
   why i'd pay circa 20 quid a week...
for a t.v. with a license...
and... nothing to watch...
     ol' lore of love is gone...
   very pressing... or hardly... practical
devaluations of that once...
formidable willing-pull-&-tug for impetus
sensation are long gone...
the crass economics of...
              heaven... i will forbid myself
to staging a cart-boot sale...
practical i: who still doesn't have a car...
and never will:
horses auctioned: yes...
            
   i had a dream that i was a motorbike...
i had the life of: roulette roundabouts of "chance"...
and that paid off...
   but what didn't pay off:
the peddling... easy-grip and whiff of
a tensed up wrist to accelerate...
would have been... the better option...

horses: tighten the reins...
imprint a heel in the torso... turn left "he says",
is say: tighten the reins to the left...
dig a heel in the right canvas bracket of torso...

i would most certainly consider
the matter closed...
    if i was getting such a ****** detail of a provider
for free or for a bare minimum...
love... hate...
these can hitchhike to their own demise
and slouching shadows to escape with
metaphors or stockholm syndrome detainees...

this 1.4 liter of ms. amber was supposed to
last me for three days...
good luck... i want to drink a little...
and become angry at those call-center mouse-traps
of pseudo-peoples...
who will cite: cables not included!
i want to become angry with...
the paycheck brigade...
   who hardly solve anything but...
digress and cut you off...
and are most likely to... over-toast
those hot-cross buns...

                       love... hate... miasmas... both... alike!
"ranting ******* and turnovers"...
and sober... does it? yes?
       what did the sober man ever conjure up...
beside... the glue of bureaucracy?
i must beg: what of the minotaur...
the menacing... hardly a bull's head
on a man's torso...
the marching of the hammers...
the marching of the quills...
i have heard that one country has asked
for finger-prints just so they can issue
a passport...
      
         my signature is not enough...
nor is my hand-writing...
         but love can wait...
       there's no need to give it a status of wine...

drinking warm whiskey isn't so bad...
you just close your eyes...
swirl the glass and pretend it's cognac...
god forbid the sanitation pipes should
malfunction...

    i have no real time for love...
love can happen in a metaphysical dress of something:
that allows... as many pockets
as there are things to hide in them...
practical peacocks of attention...

turns out: i can't fathom any ability to doodle out
a rook...
there seems to be no archetypal architect
to mind it...
there is one for an elephant...
a kamikaze giraffe that's most probably
a Nessy spin-off of a leopard: print for
a leather chair...

        is it a hybrid stork?
           best bet is: return to sender...
at least she will have an address on the readily
available... but at least i'm not hustling back
bathwater... or... i could have been...
sending her a packet of oats...

hour 'promptu...
       i'll sober up will i never...
talking to these whizz-kids about...
the internet connection and "missing satellites"...
because love should be by... "ripe old
prime concern"...
whether i am 34 or... 70 year ol' ++++...
   i can't draw a crow...
i can draw an elephant in doodle-sketch
stenography...
but i shouldn't... "technically"...
the crow is more... is more...
blatant...

show me crow: with letters!
         no... i don't imply: ᚴᚱᚨᚴᛖ....
  i mean... show me a crow...
all i see is a litany base...
of: ᚠᚨᚴᛚᛉ... this is what a crow looks like
to me...
                      "faklz"...
         you can't change my mind concerning
this...
nor can you: what sisyphus looks
like: RO...
               who needs to insert the pitch-fork
stopper of a H in the... omicron and...
what implies rolling: or rather... trilling
the R... for the rattlesnake exerpt?

   what's a snake?                           ᛊ...
it's not... ᛋ-ᛚᚨᚾᚷᛖ...
                            but for me...
a crow is... ᚠᚨᚴᛚᛉ: faklz...
                        
                                       the snake and it's...
spine... and the brain in the pickling-jar...
the winding details of signatures in
desert sands... the left-over dinosaur branch
of: by now... aeons have passed...
let alone but one... of those...
heavily culprit... tabloid newspapers...

i should have my "missing eye"
deemed the noun worthy of: faklz...
    tribulations by the:
-klz                   dolls scenting:
skip "the middle ground"...
all the latex in the world... and none
of the ******...

where is the love: it's most certainly no here...
it's with the engineers...
and not: with the call centers...

satellites and google earth and i'm still
bound to: fire! awe!
stick... friction! stones! hay fever!
ooh! aah!
   bronze age man: necklace!
harem in the waiting!
     verb + noun! elevator!
      did two nouns give birth to:
worth keeping...
i.e. pro-noun? and then that
turned into decomposition of...
chair... via... minus ch-a-r into i!?
                  no... of course not...

       of a "thing" too alive to be yet called
dead...
   just ploughing the field...
just... one of those infinitely biased
circumstance of this particular instance...
and: there's no need to peacock with
any answer: esp. if it's the "right" one...
no autodidactic when...
of a lineage... the offspring were...
supposed to be taught by people of personage...
and... scribble scribble mcdonald does doodled...
because: hey... "bruce"!
how's that york of ours: the rime
of... jack! how's that?!

    no need for tallent... no need for...
in the ethereal: of particulars...
monkey does what monkey ought...
and ought not...
with as much trouble as plasying smart...
as playing double...
and no smart or ever double...
plays out into the luck of the dumb...
you'd almost wish to be a cattle related
work of glut from a ******* & herd
perspective...
        i have to conclude...
this world for all this... beauty...
no... not when the half-imbeciles are involved
in... ruining the worth of copper...
the worth of crown...
and the worth of intellect...
for the sake of...

                a pinch of a bitter pint of a tad
bit of banter...
                   for me...
death... is a postman...
and i am... most certainly...
having to assure myself...
with a delayed send-off date...
this life and the world within in...
can or rather... would never allow me...
to feel inclined to be:
somehow... resting: even then moving...
on the bargain argument of:
being assured...
pretty much... yes...
a bargain... a bargain when asleep even...
most assured... a falling sensation...
or an ice-cream cone of licked...
morals and conscience...

and if not dabbled in?
        well... if not... dabbled in.

— The End —