war in polystyrene

cockroach in the jazz room
sat on singers shoe
fed on golden olives
from bough hooked low,
ladybirds in 40D brassieres
cut back on the needles
stuck in their eye,
seven spots
notational dots as a code
to the twelve gauge hunter
who stalked them so,
cockroach had breathed
a stallions breath
and knew of a great stratagem,
lead hunter as prey
clarinet bullets penetrate his loins
with a chakka chakka chakka,
40D brassieres strung over light
wings spread
translucent shimmer of paradise,
cockroach touches
with hissing leg,
hunters body spread as sacrifice,
thrum of the drums
there are other monsters/ dragons/pain
drapery gone
meat on the anvil
clogged with anxiety and lust
chakka chakka chakkka,
cockroach fragments
a bed of panties and brassieres
become his resting place

no more clapboard storehouse

seasons merchant brings the harvest

flesh ripened berries and firm apples

john deere’s wander fields

barns fill with crop,

barricades still out against winter

last flush of heat clinging on

birds on the cusp of migration

still hold a note in song,

and i face my execution

she had wanted me for years

now i was disposable,

unable to plow fields

and seed a decent crop

inverted hearts adorn the page,

and i find the porch

for sleeping some more,

i wish the merchant did not

expect so much,

being a simple man

i was now to be abandoned

she could make her heart autonomous

it had to turn inside

beneath her maiden outlines

no flesh expanded as she expected,

evicted to the car

its vinyl bench with no pillow

woke one morning and drove

leaving her and her field

to be sown by another

in spring

soup in cans

history cannot be muted by a kiss

butterflies will not drown in your drink

dark streets do not betray your shadow

he strokes her fragrance

with a soft inhale,

a kitchen room

cabinets stove fridge and sink

table center

soup can next to opener,

between them,

the earth has not fallen

yet still they stare

not at each other

but at the can

silver topped paper wrapped,

blood smears oceans

and desert sand,

wine flavored tongues begin to talk,

as they decide

stripped of it’s cloth

the table was bare and knotted,

around her shoulders

cloth placed

as they found out about

soup and why it was in

can

http://dversepoets.com/

burning crooked roses

coyotes yip !

as i walk through baby cyclones

up the stairs to the sky

as she remained

on sweating rocking horse

deeply sea pearl glint in eye,

oh is there anything else other

than immortality,

reward and wisdom,

have i become the dog

that runs through muddy rivers

to wash the gasoline of brutality off,

i will never see an algae

covered stone coffin,

horse keeps rocking

travelling this

unremarkable earth machine,

stairs behind me

as are leaking babies

and crushed beercans,

no cloud castle

old vagrants song rings softly,

weeping in whitman’s embrace

i have left human shape

finger shadows reach

as frozen spider would,

my once and fevered love

rides on

cumbria caravan , eastern view

Chris Lawrence Phoneography

4:30am

spelltime hour of silence

light defaces the sky

and sun confronts glass,

i am a discordant instrument

out of tune,

field and track make profiles

in the light,

rabbit flashes white tail

crows beckon with raw calls,

everyone is sleeping,

alone without cellphone coverage

or far reaching internet,

my problems an essential alphabet

to be categorized and processed

without many answers,

flushed with a sense of panic

brighter light folds about me,

besides dad gone since january

people move about my head

reaching for my attention

often stumbling,

sipping coffee

i asked them to be patient

my service was slow

attention would come

from the sleep abandoned

most awake now,

allowing the light to reach my retina

but there it stopped,

inside was still a bleak landscape

of whatever,

and i had not cleaned it up yet

 

elephant looks in a broken mirror

when a thought becomes a fraction

divided into memory

and everyday fatigue

it settles not happy to remain

will divide again

into dreams and realization

long cerebral passageways

cluttered with electric snapshots

of a life lived long,

thinking was a process

started in the morning

after rinsing mouth and bathing

combed and prepared

opened the mind

some fractions found division harder

and became elongated spools

of tension and agitation

hands that tremor

ever so slightly

as sipping a glass of lemonade,

beneath this mass of

seething activity

normal had almost resumed

old fractions worked

looking at a photo album

your son found in the loft

other debris of a life in one place

gathered and divided

and will be when your

gone

 

 

a file cabinet on the east bound state road

six drawers of the universe

filled with life he could not leave behind

twenty year commitment gone,

thick neck and morning lit face

parked up station wagon

silver leaf scars rusting

doors with rattling windows,

behind a marriage gone like perspiration,

a third from the sun creature

pushed into the office

low humbled

shoulders shrugged into body,

grasped that file cabinet

dragged it to the door lifting carpet tiles,

tailgate flipped open,

company property someone shouted

another mentioned 911,

all other lives abandoned

this was all he had,

one last look

eyes like roses on granite,

pulled away

smearing rubber traces,

freeway surrounded by suburban houses

urban outcrops to his canyon

that became a void,

cassette music kept the corpses away

those corpses of the past

that seem to claw and linger,

a siren

was it for him,

tailgate flipped lock busted

as file cabinet slid progressively out,

braking hard

it dropped on blacktop

engine stalled

a dead bronze beetle

car horns swarmed about,

grunting stood upright that grey oblong

last piece of life

scuffed and scraped,

small key on his chain unlocked top drawer

took out a warm shaken bottle of whiskey

and the gun he kept here since his wife

became afraid,

sucked in air

climbed on top and sat crosslegged,

heaven had shadows that would not conceal him

as he waited,

bullhorn call on gentle breeze

curved outline of the day a flat surface,

and a smile so human appeared

http://dversepoets.com/

 

 

 

angels at the pagan threshold

landscape seen by standing eye

on wind stripped rooftops edge,

answers pilgrims of nausea

fall as if from the depths of the sky,

horizon alone with forest

sun faced green silk and gold,

tracks of those who journey in faith

into the still of wooded glade,

within voices imagined

brambles pulled by enraged fingers

mess and tangle hide

that place used as a remote hope,

he should be there

pale faced

emotions a fountains stream

pleasure would not be found

with slackened vines,

this horizon embraced him

pulled into its complex afternoon

where time lie down

petal seconds fall,

chaos is not for choosing

sleep will not be heeded

as these files of thought

are put away,

staunched by class,

those in power jailers to tomorrow,

gas would fill indecent blue

and many more would fall,

for the sake

of secrets of kings

wordle

when she flies

loathing had been a mirror of his sleep,

now without sanitorium or astral light,

deaths pungency had gone

she lay before him,

naked as the solemnized wedding bed,

sewn with silk and love

cerise ridge scars

created with a skill he never knew he had,

her offal once mortal

he feasted upon

washed with wine and tears,

absorbing her

leaving her with mechanics,

parting her legs

felt for the copper tube

inserted handle

and turned each activating

and animating,

mechanical precision went into motion

body shuddered

eyes a shade of fog fluttered open,

she could move

with silence as her voice was no more,

he helped her dress

that velvet gown

he loved so much,

outside to walk again

without fear of bacteria or virus

morning filled the mountains with shadow,

holding hands

her face a dark riddle,

in her eyes she had the knowledge

to do the same for him

when that time came

to walk immortal together,

then she paused

he thought mechanics had failed

as she began to lift off the ground

taking flight,

he panicked calling out

as she slipped out of grasp,

soared higher into air

unable to reply,

that she had a lover she had

to find

Chagall

 

 

on notable sea

tone dialing remedy

better than those gulls

filling the air with

pull of sea,

encroaching on ears

cochlea tremors

insistent and provocative,

life needed to be in boxes

without labels,

identifying was not the issue

it was separation,

the telephone a child

cradled under chin

suckling on words,

spectacles perched with vertigo

on top of a crooked nose,

lips always poised

to speak but that was of

no consequence as sound

could carry further than voice,

a scream long prolonged

that was what pain brought,

gulls worse than cicadas

blood curled into fingers

then returned leaving them white

and grasping

still nothing,

slit your veins and fill a boat

with a swilling legacy

of something that

should of been,

letting gulls fall

bathing feathers redder

dVersePoets