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

endured no more

titian tints of summer yield

forgetting and embracing

wind and rain,

winter would come with shackles

a home,

citadel of seclusion

sphere light bulbs and ticking clocks

here you can contemplate

the different shades of life

and it’s own complex fate,

grey heart beats,

distilled whiskey poured in

glass streaked by fingers

that once touched face,

without silken words

she would return

and the fevered mind would clear

moments of indiscretion

reshape reform

music would attract,

moth like fluttering in her heart

and the once broken tongue

would speak again

healing a process

begun

http://dversepoets.com/