according to the extent of damage

cotton incarceration
warm passive silence
flaccid dysfunction
waiting for something
that will never happen,
the only viability
a son and daughter,
born before the
scent of burning gasoline

freeway interchange
radio an unordered state
of a music republic

traffuic chaos
with thrashing horns

when metal connects
notation raw
screacming crunch
thrown off latitude
subtle tones become blank
face connects with side window
glass can write and deface
what was naturally placed
as can a steering column

concrete scrape added
to symphony
eighteen wheels raised and flipped

soft cushion supports buttocks
with sores that ache
chair propelled by hands gnarled
by whatever connected with them
my hands
unseen yet rolled me forward
as i sketched in mind
floorplan outlay

yet the anger of memories lost
her face one of them,
she would push
and not complain,
butter toast
roast coffee granules
hear her yet so much is gone

that morning
making love
i think or was that last year
subtle flow interrupted
resistance is dead
we talk
lie in comfort
love that abstract definition
has shown it’s truth
worth more than what
i cannot see

apartment to let

vibrant radiator harmony,
getting to his ears
before the daylight
ripped open his eyes,
and alphabet soup thoughts
swilled from side to side
in the bowl that is his skull,
twnty seven permutations
of how the day
would end up being,
rolling a cigarette,
strips of paper cut from
an old shelley poetry book
as if inhaling the words
would give creedence to his own,
that languished on pages
scattered like a womans dirty
underwear across the floor,
that masterpiece so often
rewritten not compiled,
new words scraped away the old
confidence from caffeine
lifted him to another level,
sun filled evey corner
a morning bronze age
renaissance to the heart,
sat up scratching legs
it would be complete

Universal Studios Lot, Instagram by sessepien

Alejandro Jodorowsky – Dancing Poems (in English and Spanish)

The senses continually give what they receive / The world is modeled according to the way you think.

✽

Kind act pleasing perfume / glass of water poured unmanned / pure liquid is like the soul / created by the thirst of another benefit.

✽

The reality is embodied illusion / Birds sing because we believe in them / produce the melody between the two / eternity without them is not.

✽

I speak from the darker / Site Lamp From the river / takes the magic of life is the encounter with the countless deaths.

✽

Things are from the moment that we call our / discard them possess is / is in giving that you get.

there are no ruins

In memory of my Dad , Ivan Hare father and friend always filled with a diverse wisdom and a knowing way , transformed lives with kindness and openess, a great man. I have great memories my mum ,sisters and i survive yet in that peculiar way he does as well at our side as he always will be.

These are my feelings i am sure shared with my family

night has a cheap aluminum taste
that wakes me from the shallows
passing the border post,
into shrugged wakefulness,
i am not afraid of dentists drill
yet i am of this day
holding on by tips of my fingers
dropping into a place still dark,
i will find my way
walking not flying,
tied by blood to a long memory,
rain upon the iron tracks
a platform for the coming back
but i know of no return journeys
when passage is paid,
despite this a silent hand can be held
and forehead kissed,
locomotive rush across interior landscapes
carriage rattle and sway
memories may mumble
but they are heard and felt,
native tongue
and lyrical words
he may be gone
but not silenced
remember tea and hot buttered toast
smell, feel, dream
aluminum leaves my mouth
with each cup of coffee,
he is with me now
and i do not have to worry

Love you Dad miss you this year on , thinking of my Mum and sisters Sandra and Lana

fierce candles

winters thorns bury deep
flesh pierced by that uneased dark
until candles dripping pale
tore aside the emptiness
illuminating dust
and a heart enclosed deep beneath a breast
her warmth reflected in those eyes,
he would embrace,
beyond all walls a snowy temper raged
sweeping alongside doors
muffling all that was brutal,
in hold and secure
dawn was a long way off
a thousand years would pass
before a few magic smitten would know
stars would die
and planets turn
winding in secrets so human,
lips tremble withholding so many words
that he would say
and she would reply
as a chosen wonder,
that urge carnal became a vapor
glimmer of hope,
and futures peace at stake,
memory fickle put upon pages
of a shameless scrawl
edited by many kings
dissolved into legend and myth
springs reaction would reveal much,
embrace over
fragile reflections and shadows
for the movement so vividly intact
would leave so many
damaged echoes
that conflict is inevitable

http://dversepoets.com/

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

 

Winning Bukowski Tweet #1: wine by Chris Lawrence

Thank you so much Bukowski On Wry and all your readers , all the best

maelstrom

ardors grip
blinding as searing light
tears open caring heart
anger as old as creation,
tears at family daisy chain
crushing stems
leaving it broken
unhooked green stems
wilting broken asunder
where was the stars
and the open eyes
heart chimed
a mother resolute
that a son will be
not dead to her
but salvage
to be gathered
and supported
mending can be heard
in the blur of tears,
fragile dreams
will be recovered slowly
with different endings
when the darkness
vanishes

http://dversepoets.com/

Typhoon ‘Yolanda’ Haiyan More Than Half a Million Left Homeless in Philippines

As the typhoon raged the worst storm on record my heart went out, we have friends whose family live in Cebu it all has happened so close to the earthquake last month.
Back in  1970 Gemino H Abad a great fillipino poet wrote How Our Towns Drown and i place a copy here for you to read, and send prayers, donate try to do whatever you can it all helps , keep Republika ng Pilipinas in our hearts as they recover.

How Our Towns Drown

how in the downpour
downstream of doom we are returned
houses and pigs in ceaseless procession
as skies boom and fall thundering spears
to beat down all curses and tears to tide
among driftwood, seaweed and water hyacinth’s
prayer wreaths for the dead and drowned

downstream of doom we are returned
tottering over manholes shivering in the blast
of a blind monsoon it’s hollow howl
the rolling dreariness of our emptied hills
our feet doubt the ground where streets
vanish in the gorge of swill and slime
to flood at last we are flotsam and scum

houses and pigs in ceaseless procession
and rushing past our brethren those lovelorn
cats and cockroaches among floating roofs
lumbering cadavers of cherished scrap
our naked brats scamper and gambol
over scavenged loot of murky things
tires and handbags , bottles and shoes

as skies fall boom and fall thundering spears
on Cherry Hill slumping down it’s slope
and shoveling homes in one boulder swoop
landfill of families in moaning mud
so sudden their screams no echoes bear
abducted to questioning rage of memory
by what “state of calamity” or “act of god”

to beat down all curses and tears to tides
Antipolo to Pangasinan the earth rivers
and shoves down Pinatubo’s  renegade ooze
to our paddies swelling to ocean of muck
fish ponds collapsing to swamp
for bridges are down and mountains too far
to flle and shelter from water’s gore

among seaweed , driftwood and water hyacinth’s
what word , what route, what water world
for breathing space, the floors of our dreams
but shiver their fittings and leak their gloom
clutch of seaweed for hair
driftwood for limbs , hyacinth’s for cloaks
what new indigene  only survivor  to offer

prayer wreath’s for the dead and drowned
requiescat  in peace .. vitam aeternam
so cradle the infant , swaddled in rubble grime
just now excavated and no mother to hush
it’s lost wail no father no sibling
surely now their wreck is deaf to cranes
or fingers digging, to what any change

how in the downpour our towns drown

Gemino H Abad

 

 

phantoms from a shotglass

crushed bullet amalgam

would never ease the nerve

raw taunted,

mouth spoke sore words

unrefined as love in three acts,

barefoot bluejacket

you were not the trash

he put you out to be,

sawdust blonde balance

to a natural face,

you liked the Dodge

and sat beside

in that vacant vinyl caress

of a hot summers day,

gravel churned

tires burned dark streaks

towards the center of town,

how could she cheat,

love was like tentacles

suctioned about your every part,

nothing more would be said,

slowing close to a rusted wire fence,

a gathering

barbecue sausage and steaks,

pain eased that moment

no notices given

what you brought her here for,

it was the brick

that found it’s way into the hand

a scream

she grasped his arm

that lashed the brick

across a cheekbone splitting,

falling ,

people running from the house,

let it go she cried

bullet powdered jaw ached

fleet embrace

behind dust and exhaust

a man lay

pouring blood,

did he deserve ,

he was unsure

but when you love

in darker ways

it has to happen