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

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

 

 

Fathers Day

i am father

and my father was father before me

we are form

almost unified shape

tied by familial genetics,

i am here

my father gone

bond unbroken love unbound

memory and cohesion

i have many of his traits,

i am here

and he still is

of the dust of the wind

yet at my side

that rub of ache in the forehead

as his thoughts and mine collide,

i have voice

my children hear

i make it apparent

as i heard my father,

despite long hours of work

his words i could hold

and made me smile

a child growing taught what is right

molded by nurturing consideration,

i am love

to my children

as he to me

never too old to embrace

and accept eternal bond

now without him

i will carry on

and my sons

as fathers will

Ivan Hare 18/06/27-09/01/13

fireproof monkey

elastic bound thoughts

contracted as  would a boiled egg

overdone,

 

helios hepped on jazz

found the stroke of sidewalk

blocks of bars and strip joints,

 

mind breathing everything

eyes registering the glass windows

of long to come

tomorrows,

when her kiss come

buick grille jaws of hell,

 

elastic could not tighten

anymore flared with worms

and a solitary fly,

noise flushed red of wanton art,

 

could i be a titan

writhing on that couch

with string hearted blonde

ivory lonely care

without tending priests,

poor dumb altar

with genius of my soul

her and my footsteps

made us kings and queens

of the carnival

and slumberers of the

dreary city doorways

 

 

carcasses when broken

words pressed to my forehead

ready to explode,

winters long wait for suns awakening,

there is no lamb in a killers eyes,

transmit feeling with each moment

breathing

knowledge escaping,

the future is out of it’s cage

unsure unsteady,

dandelion clocks dispel

it is worlds end

lighthouse of the precipice ,

word pressure tighter,

saliva wet in the mouth

like kisses from a hungry dog,

broken waves are heard

noise visible on open window,

human that feeling and being

cannot be sold,

those words are hurting

urging through skin

cracking skull bone,

my brain resists

textured ripe as an open fruit

solid as that sweet nut of pleasure,

i will continue

and watch you go adrift

on the longest wave

beyond beacon light,

nine thoughts exposed

from heaven

intermittent pulses

a cruel birth as i watch in silence,

forgetting that the past had been

imprinted with us,

this place with meadow near

would fall into ruin

without us

 

multiple coincidences

unfathomable satin pillow of sky

over city my coeval,

traffic noise curtains billowed

as i lay in the comfort

with only my own breath

sounding out,

bedclothes scattered wadded

into masses on that blue carpet,

timing had been the measure,

this was my place

no motel with bleak neon,

i could consume my life

in whatever way i wanted

without intervention or lust on time,

a fly would hover

before i found yesterdays news

to roll and crush that fragile

gossamer winged creature,

she had not quite gone

her touch left indentations beyond

fingerprints visible on my skin

pressure points that excited

to that blazing exclusion of my mind

nebulous shimmer near

opaque evaporation,

my vision light and molecules

on the retina,

i was more absorbed by my feelings

that the sound that cut into my life

of tires losing grip

metal impacting on interstate collision

noise and destruction

someones life consigned to a slab,

i did not move

tingling fingers and toes

aware of sirens

the knocking of eager fists

pounded

then a torch shone

locating life in my eyes,

the road had claimed her

of that i was sure,

now my bed

within this city

my coeval,

we had lengthened shadows

together

now i lay still

 

Hair Yellower By Torchlight

.86 acre of land

a vine crawled house,

boathouse at the extreme

in this place

tongued by wavelets,

scented moss,

naked

upon moth devoured

blankets,

i saw her hair

was yellower by torchlight