When Lisa told me she had made love
Another, in the life of that phone booth
Tepeyac store , I thought the world
He had for me. A tall skinny guy and
With long hair and a long dick that did not wait
Over an appointment to penetrate to the bottom.
There is something serious , she said , but
The best way to get you out of my life.
Parmenides Garcia Saldana had long hair and had
Been the lover of Lisa , but some
Years later I learned that he had died in a psychiatric clinic
Or that he had committed suicide . Lisa and I did not want
Go to bed with losers. Sometimes I dream
With her and see her happy and cold in Mexico
Designed by Lovecraft. We listen to music
( Canned Heat , one of the preferred groups
Parmenides Garcia Saldana ) and then we
Love three times . The first came inside me
The second came in my mouth and the third , just a thread
Water , a short fishing line, between my breasts. And all
In two hours, said Lisa . The two worst hours of my life,
I said from the other side of the phone.
Tag Archives: báseň
steps to a mocking truth
my shoes have grown
as my heart and eyes have seen
they walked with me,
since those first inaccurate stumbles
seeing surface and texture
slipped on,
tied,
buckled
leather formed about the feet,
or thrown in disgust
at a politicians head,
they walk with us
mutely seeing and interacting
as the animal they once where
to a human misery,
without shoes connecting to earth
and nature of earthen creation,
ski hardening
to dust
stone
and blacktop,
miles witnessed
to a freedom attained
toes as extremity population
encounter first and enjoy
what was once an overall entrapment
thorns may spike
stones may pierce
batons beat
and electrodes burn,
washed and anointed
our shoes are needed
protect
shelter
enable
and keep away the awful pains,
shoes see more
than we think
dversepoets.com
adjustment into darkness
from memphis to eleusis
found his place in harbor lighthouse,
after challenges underground
proved his worth more than stoic penis
wrapped in demeter’s poppies,
his light house
the only light he knew
had no lover to share,
so wished to discover others,
red mullet of extraordinary size
spoke to him of those that make love
on the beaches at night,
he was being called on to do
serapis whispered over pillows
into sleeping ears
keeping the light bright with oil
sent out that red mullet
scaled fish of land and sea
and it would return,
raising from the sea
with line and hook
secured the writhing eel
of couple snatched from sand
they became his lovers for the night
venting lust and sadism on both,
be it man man or woman love to be
extracted,
when done said his prayers to
the face of apis
tormented by pain,
then with surgical practice
cut them and fed them to the
mullet that sang,
the time would come
when fish and man would
indulge in passion,
his sperm food for the vitellogenesis
and his spawn
would find other oceans
to claim their own
The Big Catch by Catrin Welz Stein
Have a look at Catrin’s wonderful blog and also there are many sites with her work for sale so have a look http://catrinwelzstein.blogspot.de/
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
incredible saboteur
bones where our fathers sleep
forgotten beneath the stairs,
theater of the virgin daughter has begun
left the abyss
rode naked beneath a harvest sky,
flowers once cast upon the river
caught by rising fishes
their illiterate world
tensed and sure,
this has to be the darkest season
of blood not drawn by knife
but fear of the morning hill,
normal day without monsters
forged on sleeping mental despair,
no amount of her is aimless,
violets had been crushed on the lawn
buzzards had become trapped in
rivers sediment,
wrapped in fabric woven with
delusion and anagrams of what
love should of brought,
bands of gold encircle retinas flourish,
she has found a new way
more than chromosomes shared with
other mammals,
she raises a visible alarm,
society dissected under assured touch
and found the moon wanting,
no more to be buried side by side
eternal would be joy and dance,
then we sleep
horizons last echo
april sky so soon
drifting on a serpents tail,
leave things unsaid
as land sloop nods it’s sails
passing by
current winds darkly,
past rises and falls
heart regains soft perfume
and patient curve of dreams,
the dose of milky words is measured
and watch strong veins yield,
fertile nymph swift winged
with gentle reprimand and sweet caress
each phrase an anchor
she is the earth i sought
connect and chains alike rendered
into length across the gulf
range to stars and hand shaped sun,
beam downward facing light
it’s shift as hot as a hammer strike,
layers heat stripped back
pool of her shine
into a naked dance
witnessed by constellation
who appraised and agreed,
becoming fugitives
beyond a shouting earth
we fled on the arch
of freedoms ray
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