periodizing memory

tribal myths
of urban erosion,
human decay and devalue
enlightenment forbidden
left to the poet of society

paint flakes
as fingernail connects
a worried sore of what
is left behind

concrete and brick convey stories
only as far as we allow them,
corridor routes to many rooms
as with memories

how can this be a composition
construct of words and thoughts
when it rambles
on moth wings
escape can be a broken window

table and chairs
foam guts spewed
he had broken vows faith trust
here eager in his own involvement
thought theory and contradicts

bruised face spittle dampened
punished and beaten
because of an instinct survival brings
hungering lust
to nest burrow forget

she was resolute
evaded and survived
he had been
twisted by triggers of pain
another room
dabbing spittle off his chin
lifting spoon to weak lips

as with muscular distress
he watched her consume passion
with one who cared
his brutality had brought him
to this

left to collapsing rooms
becoming fabric of the dust
a horror myth
of haunting and fear
for others not her

moth had found a window
grease streaked broken
jagged edges did not connect
with fragile wings
bruises heal
fading as time can

Piedad Bonnett – Circle and Ash

Your mouth comes to me, only your mouth.
comes flying
dragonfly blood flare
that lights my night this ash.
entire sea salt dwelling in her,
the whole sound of the sea,
all foam.
Boca drawn for kisses ,
where tantalizing your tongue sleep.
entire world wine is in your mouth,
all the sin
and all innocence.
Boca shut up and when he says, hidden.
Capable of your mouth the whole truth,
the whole truth and lies.
Laugh your mouth and wake up the day.
(Lightning snow there in your laughter.)
As a herd of ponies run over me
kissing your delicious mouth,
your mouth, butterfly wrong,
your mouth others that is blurred
in my circle night and ash.

Off The Perfumed Saddle

piano keys washed in honey [ woman bathing in time ]
sexualist extreme ,
broken straw bed
assembled ingredients of a virgins reflection

desire/slutton/erogenous/ unforgiving

bitter fingers play [woman dried on flowers flesh]
hungering absolute yet no permanence
jazz expelled drum beat symphony

tatoo/dollars /benign/fragile

[woman forgotten in memories light]
supple sinewy ghosts on sunset go

 

a raw experiment for @dVersePoets 55 prompt

http://dversepoets.com/

 

aerial burden of the ox

with the old decades shown in the rain
burdening me with a dampness
remorse in it’s wanting has,
flesh colored dreams
drawn tight into deep constriction
the next day would be more relevant,
sipping a coffee cold at the edges
no plate on the mat
hunger not the issue here,
wet clothes painful to the bone
unnoticed by a vapor soul,
scented thoughts
as my mind peeled
drawn into segments pithy and secretive,
pieces i could look at
and not venture a taste
any sweetness gone
acrid juice spilling over lingering images
this fight so ancient
could break me down at the yoke
leaving a harvested husk
and no resonance,
only to be lifted skywards
coffee grew cold
mat still empty

http://dversepoets.com/ #openlinknight

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

winters fold

sticky beaked crow

raucous over winter berries,

as i ran on frosted ground

grass unlikely to bend

silvered instead of green,

clouds would shake

their snow soon

blanketing and forming

a soft landscape for me

in snow,

i was protected

the chill and damp

reddened eyes and nose,

sticky beaked crow

a shadow on the ground

lengthening under a low sun,

my shadow would be longer

one day,

for now i was content

to lay upon my back

feeling spread of arms and legs

as i be came an angel

dVersePoets

did the sky close

trees doused in solar gasoline

flaring cinematic glow

radiant crawling into eyes

and eventually the heart,

it is beyond the four day rain

so no use writing a haiku,

what will you say to moments

missed out by heaven

and only mortal seen,

air as with light has cooled

leaves and pine needles

penetrate the body,

someone will hunt a deer

stripping carcass on the ground

flies on blood crust,

crows clack and dance on branches

high,

in summer your sea washed hair

fell in curls,

now damp hung onto shoulders

as you move off the porch,

eyes with a carnivore hollering

look at those trees

axe slips in hand

thudding only in the mind

blood trail on boards

not yet dry,

those beings who creak at night

have cheated you into thinking

that cutting laughter out of a

throat was better seen than smelled

footfalls soft blue dress swish

night will crawl back into the moon

and phase out its glow,

taking with it memories

no longer imprinted

fragile in the innocence of

aftermath began to feel

that summer had gone

like an abrupt lover

and everything would be felt

with a frost

of reality

 

 

 

sublime oranges

he measured the room

by volume of the dark

with light subtracted,

moving as ulysses did in hades

he would find breakfast on the sand,

ocean not so far away

as high tides where relevant,

rituals began

ideas stencilled on embryonic dna

created this path and outlook,

sometimes he felt it was only he

he revolving and the earth had stopped,

it was not a crisis of meaning

only an imbalance on his poetics,

even in the dark

he could place a pen nib and write

about placing kisses on her

naked arcitecture,

a finding in deep silence

what she had really meant

under that cloak of shuddering mysticism

pen scratched paper

it would be ten pages,

before images faltered and pen halted,

ignoring wine that had already spilled on

table top,

peeled an orange

segmented aspects from which to

derive a special calm,

her bewitching had been an interference

but now choking fumes cleared

and he was at last

truly free

@dVersePoets

flounderboy

fuck it and the great yee haa

dumbshit muscle car

and that fabricated pregnancy

her side of town always had it right

he was a paper flounder

in the forest

gasping for air,

she kissed him once

it occurred,

tearing up blacktop

nowhere to go

his image would be born at 5pm

and he would not be there,

bottle shattered thrown from window

fuck accelerated with the engine

spit on fists and punch the wall

turning hard

smearing rubber,

breathing hard as engine idled

blue bra and panty serenade

shit he was a dumbfuck

turning to run,

her dad did not have a bullet

in the chamber of his heart,

returning at a slower crawl

only his mind raced

it was time

a fishy story by judith clay
http://society6.com/judithclay

http://dversepoets.com/

poignant limitations of sorrow

jeweled tombs of once visionary eyes

that had lost fiery lightning and the moon,

withdrawn no supernatural

accomplishment,

as symbols of obscure hours

watched with a disdain for light

becoming soiled by the soul

with august sorrows,

mankind knew of many merciless rulers

who used terror as supreme power,

rebellion awakened from stubborn sleep,

imagination of those

seeing a future others had not

next morning would have many suggestions,

vanity would not nurse emotion

bullets would not be kissed by lips

that spoke of treacherous dreams,

music of voices spread over cities

and blue skied landscapes,

plans conceived with  tears

and women taking widows veil,

television messages and distortion

vulgar external eyes

hands folded on lap

pretend subtle debate and interest

whilst buildings burn

assured rocks thrown

defiance not disguised,

all interior tragedies have those warriors

the fallen and fables,

but all endings are not the same

for that you have to wait

for winters grasp