Wondering in 2018

Events have occurred , political intrusion by government Trump or May that have dissolved our lives into a caricature farce that is dark and sadistic so I wrote this…

curious

in a time I never realised before

those blindly blinking

people

heads down

could be swallowed up

by forces unseen

and never know

monuments fall

governments tirade

without distraction

I was a beggar in life

seizing the moments

that never seemed to come often

thoughts and a voice

but nobody would listen

media’s bluster

without so much as

whisper

of human account

cut me into wounds

moral abstract slices

of nevermore and decay

will we be saved

on this exhausted hulk

called earth

or will I shrivel

into that carbonised carapace

and tomb

that is called death

In The Scheme Of Things

gutless form of

grey flannel

and bowler hat

tapping briefcase

with finger

pencil callused

autocratic directions

of how the

shapeless should fit

tailors chalk on cloth

decisive lines

to trim or sew

mouths stitched so

neatly shut

limbs severed so that

the fall of material

should be so suitable

old money new money

contra entries

that become the washerwomans

laundry

in colonial towns

with brighter sun

and sweated brows

grey flannel choke

and soft eton tones

cruciform stretched

with benefits denied

g&t cold pink lemonade

taking canapes on landscaped lawn

take a bow doff your cap

grateful for what you

don’t receive

inbred subservience

of the golden age

long shadows

keeping us in the dark

mouth torn open

begins to shout

blood on lips

blood on tongue

strike a match

to cauterize

and light the beacon torch

flannel shadows

cannot keep us hidden

or denied

we have voices

as we are many

and you are few

 

copyyright Chris Lawrence

 

 

natural ass bird

accelerate harder
trees tremor passed,
what is against the heart
and rain streaked glass,
prophecy and a government system
insulted by the freaks of lottery
money was not to be
the blanket of insidious content,
radio breaks it down
speed accompanies the heart,
the bitch most malicious
than spilled gasoline
with a well lie lubricated tongue
speaks of equality
pace of society,
why feel betrayed
as if she where sat alongside you
taunting as if fertile
yet as barren as a thousand year
old desert,
tires bite into blacktop
staining and smearing
with billows of smoke,
there can be only one ultimatum,
terror inflates the throat
choking on that swelling promise
of nothing,
beyond sharp curve of road
open air
and sweet mist valley
and the feeling of
wanting to fly

http://dversepoets.com/

open link night #145

geometrics and some physical optics

he woke
he pissed
he smoked,
sat at the desk as others
before him,
heavy oak resonance,
with politicknife would cut policy
it had become about color,
the blue the yellow
strove to adjust to each other,
the red the green
so incompatible,
clarity was needed in misdirection
politicknife more palette than blade
scraped bluntly over canvas
to portray the country
texture and relief,
some of it muddied
stained like shit on a public toilet,
he spoke on TV
bright suited as a clown
body language and gestures
seen and felt as colors of betrayal
it was beyond functionalism
and wider knowledge
colors bled
every perception was not upheld,
people took to tree lined avenues
beneath autumn auburn,
held poster paint placards
chanting,
colors adjusted
all attitudes changed,
again at his desk
looking at errors of doctrine,
the religious confined to sunday
men of friday peace,
zealots who ranted for any god
they where unifying
he felt afraid,
colors that should never combine
on palette or canvas,
became alive,
betrayed inside government halls,
closed eyes so that the brightness
would not be visible,
humanities noose
had underwritten his future,
rainbows can be clutched
in eager hands and each strand
peeled apart
scattered
like shotgun pellets,
reflected refracted
no more distinction
it was over,
slashing the canvas
pissed over it
pouring gasoline
it burned,
defeat knew a cell door
and he was content,
within gray and bleak darkness
color could not and would not intrude
now he felt alive

Gyorgi Petri – Hanging Question

Here I’m sitting on the bed,
I can see all the way out to the doorway,
I can see
my wintercoat, my hat,
my scarf
on the hanger.
Why not
my wintercoat, my hat
my scarf
sitting here on the bed,
and me hanging
on the hanger?

Would they watch me?

kohler one and two

apes have insight as seen

under the soft winds of tenerife,

man as another ape

also has insight to convey and

express through brain chemistry,

we share flexible hands

that in wisconsin built ceramic wares

that ape with flexible parts

would use to dispose and hide

bodily waste

not wiped with leaves and buried,

food and the toilet

an inexhaustible amount of

links between,

we feed we shit we betray

the toilet the ape the man

intrigue of mind

not understanding what is real

correlation of brain and development

would introspection

come into play,

ceramic beauty and form

cupping arse to excrete,

apes missed out  on porcelain desire

white shining cold,

yet who has developed

we watch we learn we betray

emotions significant part,

bare red ringed arse

bare flushed mating arse

under kohler one and kohler two

we have become that unshakeable

being of flesh fur behavior

dynamics of a wild innocence

that sees things so differently

as we see of each other

anthropometrics of form and mind

everything classified

as in information,

encrypted distorted betrayed

told only by the apes that lead

the higher beings

naked suited alone

 

http://dversepoets.com/

jamie and the 31p cornflakes

you food preacher,

man of spatula skills

appear on lcd tv

and tell us of our food

our lifestyle,

congested lungs and stomach

and inability to feed ourselves,

the benefit louche

and disposable low income,

our world has no michelin stars

siting over

wild tarragon and mussels

instead kebabs or chip shop,

waste of money to some

but we need to live as well

already ghettoized

by paparazzi

obese and slovenly,

try finding money for electric

meter

or 52 inch tv,

we are human remember

lives of our own

and those to be born,

stigmata

of minimum wage

and rent overpriced,

come into our world

if you must

but do not preach or condemn

you can never understand

Jamie Oliver

31p Cornflakes

decline of our morning consumption

The media we look to them for our news , incisive articles and the best our arts have to offer, well NO it is changing and two things fueled this piece one the Chicago Sun Times says it is doing away with book reviews  http://goodereader.com/blog/electronic-readers/do-we-really-need-book-reviews/ and on the BBC Morning show recently they interviewed the rapper Dizzee Rascal and one question he was asked referred to the intrusion of journalists in his life, his response was that they have to as they are part of the entertainment culture since when have journalists been entertainers is media falling into one big trap of celebrity and gossip , it will no longer have relevance already i see celebrity pregnancies reported before news articles they have slipped down the chain , international news dwindles i guess our social networks are now filling the gap, people journalism blogs and dedicated sites , i have to admit i do enjoy picking up a newspaper but by the time you have eradicated adverts, celebrity and gossip what is left and on tv analyze what you see, it is slipping us by. Another response to Dizzee would be seeing journalists on Survivor and other reality tv , journalists are not entertainers or celebrities they report our society as it is ,they give us the information we maybe cannot find orselves.

One scenario a country with a troubled government , the population will know more of Jessica Simpsons pregnancy and the latest nipple slip than who is governing and  this is dangerous we still need to be informed knowledge is an asset not a luxury let some sensibility return

sucking in breath

sunburnt man

wretched and weary

beneath light and rain,

thunder smelled of goatskin

and musky aftershave,

steps taken like a drunk

falling on his own

sky crossed with jets

over the park

those travelling to another

countries sun to relax,

as slowly it ceased

shimmering haze

brought glare to eyes

worn with failing status

once he was among the rest

spewing from subway to curb

urgent and despairing

eager to get home,

that place with a yard

spill of ivy

trimmed lawn,

but that page had turned

fortune walked away like

everyone else,

yet his eyes sparkled

renewed vigor in his step,

he saw the torture he once

experienced,

now he belonged to no one

bank, employer, wife

even country,

he was an independent state

 

Margaret Thatcher

In death she divides us again , but more importantly the fissures that have chronically remained since have reopened her policies under scrutiny, i saw the fall of Unions the propelling into a war that was only for populism, industry sold and collapsed Mines, Docks every sector experienced the force of her nature unbending unwilling , destroying the mines destroyed community and society fragmented drifters pushed into other towns having to learn new skills to survive for less pay while on the other hand the rich never had it so good bonuses and million pound paychecks, business leaders enjoying the might of unions collapse so they could apply work conditions without challenge, i would not celebrate anyone’s death but her legacy is a poor one that shows so truly now, foreign policy Pinochet and Khmer Rouge she made allies and friends of leaders would not tolerate today but unopposed or weakly so she ploughed on.

That is all i am going to say as i needed to say it i saw poverty the collapse of a lot of industry at her hands but what is done should not be perpetuated the Government today should listen us the 99% we work and toil to earn minimum wage so that million £ bonuses can be paid, time to change think hard about the countries future and make a wise choice your life depends on it