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

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

Winning Bukowski Tweet #1: wine by Chris Lawrence

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

vortex

father see’s a mothers red tears
embrace and hold
together as one
a son’s anger,
quick flash phosphorous
explosive and regrettable
yet change occurs
a fathers eyes,
become so different
lens of caution
draws over cornea
digging hands in pockets
remaining apart
unsure of the person
he helped create,
yesterday would not be
recovered,
it was hauled
into the dark subconscious
stored in a file
tentative regeneration
but there would be
a difference now

http://dversepoets.com/

 

 

love gone beserk

isolation makes me jump
into the shredding propeller of her tongue
it was Hi 8 and stereo record player
and a sense we belonged,
wiping nose on my hand
then on those jeans strained and faded,
we could make it work maybe,
her nightgown had buttons
linear nipples of distraction,
i would run
if it where not the seventeenth floor
and no closer to heaven,
her voice slowed quicker
than the snow outside,
are we done
gun still pressed in my back waistband
you look done
i  felt battered beyond the cut over eye
and bloodied nose,
the projects would have heroes
i was not one of them,
failing to hold up the store
girl cashier
younger
faded blonde dye and dark roots,
i spoke and connected,
pulled a flower from the bunches
sold cheaply at the desk
and gave it to her,
a startling explosion
as manager hit me with a piece of wood,
i ran
never said goodbye
but i know who
i wanted now

http://dversepoets.com/

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

 

 

 

soup in cans

history cannot be muted by a kiss

butterflies will not drown in your drink

dark streets do not betray your shadow

he strokes her fragrance

with a soft inhale,

a kitchen room

cabinets stove fridge and sink

table center

soup can next to opener,

between them,

the earth has not fallen

yet still they stare

not at each other

but at the can

silver topped paper wrapped,

blood smears oceans

and desert sand,

wine flavored tongues begin to talk,

as they decide

stripped of it’s cloth

the table was bare and knotted,

around her shoulders

cloth placed

as they found out about

soup and why it was in

can

http://dversepoets.com/

in the benthic zone

once a pair now alone

worn paranzella dragger converted,

with diesel stained captain

hauling on throttle,

bow cut water

wake washed away,

now a yankee otter class

new purpose glint in eye,

flounder that captains gold

flat dull fish,

yet so beautiful

a detrivore lying on a bed

of crystallized sand,

speckled jewel to be drawn up

with others of it’s kind,

left side lying with

right side patient black eyes,

captain looked upon a sea

that did not boil

nets set as radio played,

remembering as a child

cutting paper flounder out of newspaper

mounted on card

in the ocean of imagination

with it’s more vivid life

between trees that stretched

up from ocean floor

where seahorses hide

leaf litter making hedgehog home

not knowing xylophagy

and that the flounder did not,

the ocean a multicoloured

imagined feast

of eternal food gods provide,

if flounder had flown

as in his dreams

would escape of been so easy

from slithering mesh of net

camouflage

no use against human predator

machines of food consumption turned

weeping for a forest to hide

or wings for new serenity,

chosen ones stowed below

gasping small cast overboard,

relieved to escape fishmongers knife,

there is a forest where flounder fly

and in our hearts

let’s keep it that way

once a pair now alone

worn paranzella dragger converted,

with diesel stained captain

hauling on throttle,

bow cut water

wake washed away,

now a yankee otter class

new purpose glint in eye,

flounder that captains gold

flat dull fish,

yet so beautiful

a detrivore lying on a bed

of crystallized sand,

speckled jewel to be drawn up

with others of it’s kind,

left side lying with

right side patient black eyes,

captain looked upon a sea

that did not boil

nets set as radio played,

remembering as a child

cutting paper flounder out of newspaper

mounted on card

in the ocean of imagination

with it’s more vivid life

between trees that stretched

up from ocean floor

where seahorses hide

leaf litter making hedgehog home

not knowing xylophagy

and that the flounder did not,

the ocean a multicoloured

imagined feast

of eternal food gods provide,

if flounder had flown

as in his dreams

would escape of been so easy

from slithering mesh of net

camouflage

no use against human predator

machines of food consumption turned

weeping for a forest to hide

or wings for new serenity,

chosen ones stowed below

gasping small cast overboard,

relieved to escape fishmongers knife,

there is a forest where flounder fly

and in our hearts

let’s keep it that way

once a pair now alone

worn paranzella dragger converted,

with diesel stained captain

hauling on throttle,

bow cut water

wake washed away,

now a yankee otter class

new purpose glint in eye,

flounder that captains gold

flat dull fish,

yet so beautiful

a detrivore lying on a bed

of crystallized sand,

speckled jewel to be drawn up

with others of it’s kind,

left side lying with

right side patient black eyes,

captain looked upon a sea

that did not boil

nets set as radio played,

remembering as a child

cutting paper flounder out of newspaper

mounted on card

in the ocean of imagination

with it’s more vivid life

between trees that stretched

up from ocean floor

where seahorses hide

leaf litter making hedgehog home

not knowing xylophagy

and that the flounder did not,

the ocean a multicoloured

imagined feast

of eternal food gods provide,

if flounder had flown

as in his dreams

would escape of been so easy

from slithering mesh of net

camouflage

no use against human predator

machines of food consumption turned

weeping for a forest to hide

or wings for new serenity,

chosen ones stowed below

gasping small cast overboard,

relieved to escape fishmongers knife,

there is a forest where flounder fly

and in our hearts

let’s keep it that way

once a pair now alone

worn paranzella dragger converted,

with diesel stained captain

hauling on throttle,

bow cut water

wake washed away,

now a yankee otter class

new purpose glint in eye,

flounder that captains gold

flat dull fish,

yet so beautiful

a detrivore lying on a bed

of crystallized sand,

speckled jewel to be drawn up

with others of it’s kind,

left side lying with

right side patient black eyes,

captain looked upon a sea

that did not boil

nets set as radio played,

remembering as a child

cutting paper flounder out of newspaper

mounted on card

in the ocean of imagination

with it’s more vivid life

between trees that stretched

up from ocean floor

where seahorses hide

leaf litter making hedgehog home

not knowing xylophagy

and that the flounder did not,

the ocean a multicoloured

imagined feast

of eternal food gods provide,

if flounder had flown

as in his dreams

would escape of been so easy

from slithering mesh of net

camouflage

no use against human predator

machines of food consumption turned

weeping for a forest to hide

or wings for new serenity,

chosen ones stowed below

gasping small cast overboard,

relieved to escape fishmongers knife,

there is a forest where flounder fly

and in our hearts

let’s keep it that way

once a pair now alone

worn paranzella dragger converted,

with diesel stained captain

hauling on throttle,

bow cut water

wake washed away,

now a yankee otter class

new purpose glint in eye,

flounder that captains gold

flat dull fish,

yet so beautiful

a detrivore lying on a bed

of crystallized sand,

speckled jewel to be drawn up

with others of it’s kind,

left side lying with

right side patient black eyes,

captain looked upon a sea

that did not boil

nets set as radio played,

remembering as a child

cutting paper flounder out of newspaper

mounted on card

in the ocean of imagination

with it’s more vivid life

between trees that stretched

up from ocean floor

where seahorses hide

leaf litter making hedgehog home

not knowing xylophagy

and that the flounder did not,

the ocean a multicoloured

imagined feast

of eternal food gods provide,

if flounder had flown

as in his dreams

would escape of been so easy

from slithering mesh of net

camouflage

no use against human predator

machines of food consumption turned

weeping for a forest to hide

or wings for new serenity,

chosen ones stowed below

gasping small cast overboard,

relieved to escape fishmongers knife,

there is a forest where flounder fly

and in our hearts

let’s keep it that way

once a pair now alone

worn paranzella dragger converted,

with diesel stained captain

hauling on throttle,

bow cut water

wake washed away,

now a yankee otter class

new purpose glint in eye,

flounder that captains gold

flat dull fish,

yet so beautiful

a detrivore lying on a bed

of crystallized sand,

speckled jewel to be drawn up

with others of it’s kind,

left side lying with

right side patient black eyes,

captain looked upon a sea

that did not boil

nets set as radio played,

remembering as a child

cutting paper flounder out of newspaper

mounted on card

in the ocean of imagination

with it’s more vivid life

between trees that stretched

up from ocean floor

where seahorses hide

leaf litter making hedgehog home

not knowing xylophagy

and that the flounder did not,

the ocean a multicoloured

imagined feast

of eternal food gods provide,

if flounder had flown

as in his dreams

would escape of been so easy

from slithering mesh of net

camouflage

no use against human predator

machines of food consumption turned

weeping for a forest to hide

or wings for new serenity,

chosen ones stowed below

gasping small cast overboard,

relieved to escape fishmongers knife,

there is a forest where flounder fly

and in our hearts

let’s keep it that way

once a pair now alone

worn paranzella dragger converted,

with diesel stained captain

hauling on throttle,

bow cut water

wake washed away,

now a yankee otter class

new purpose glint in eye,

flounder that captains gold

flat dull fish,

yet so beautiful

a detrivore lying on a bed

of crystallized sand,

speckled jewel to be drawn up

with others of it’s kind,

left side lying with

right side patient black eyes,

captain looked upon a sea

that did not boil

nets set as radio played,

remembering as a child

cutting paper flounder out of newspaper

mounted on card

in the ocean of imagination

with it’s more vivid life

between trees that stretched

up from ocean floor

where seahorses hide

leaf litter making hedgehog home

not knowing xylophagy

and that the flounder did not,

the ocean a multicoloured

imagined feast

of eternal food gods provide,

if flounder had flown

as in his dreams

would escape of been so easy

from slithering mesh of net

camouflage

no use against human predator

machines of food consumption turned

weeping for a forest to hide

or wings for new serenity,

chosen ones stowed below

gasping small cast overboard,

relieved to escape fishmongers knife,

there is a forest where flounder fly

and in our hearts

let’s keep it that way

once a pair now alone

worn paranzella dragger converted,

with diesel stained captain

hauling on throttle,

bow cut water

wake washed away,

now a yankee otter class

new purpose glint in eye,

flounder that captains gold

flat dull fish,

yet so beautiful

a detrivore lying on a bed

of crystallized sand,

speckled jewel to be drawn up

with others of it’s kind,

left side lying with

right side patient black eyes,

captain looked upon a sea

that did not boil

nets set as radio played,

remembering as a child

cutting paper flounder out of newspaper

mounted on card

in the ocean of imagination

with it’s more vivid life

between trees that stretched

up from ocean floor

where seahorses hide

leaf litter making hedgehog home

not knowing xylophagy

and that the flounder did not,

the ocean a multicoloured

imagined feast

of eternal food gods provide,

if flounder had flown

as in his dreams

would escape of been so easy

from slithering mesh of net

camouflage

no use against human predator

machines of food consumption turned

weeping for a forest to hide

or wings for new serenity,

chosen ones stowed below

gasping small cast overboard,

relieved to escape fishmongers knife,

there is a forest where flounder fly

and in our hearts

let’s keep it that way

once a pair now alone

worn paranzella dragger converted,

with diesel stained captain

hauling on throttle,

bow cut water

wake washed away,

now a yankee otter class

new purpose glint in eye,

flounder that captains gold

flat dull fish,

yet so beautiful

a detrivore lying on a bed

of crystallized sand,

speckled jewel to be drawn up

with others of it’s kind,

left side lying with

right side patient black eyes,

captain looked upon a sea

that did not boil

nets set as radio played,

remembering as a child

cutting paper flounder out of newspaper

mounted on card

in the ocean of imagination

with it’s more vivid life

between trees that stretched

up from ocean floor

where seahorses hide

leaf litter making hedgehog home

not knowing xylophagy

and that the flounder did not,

the ocean a multicoloured

imagined feast

of eternal food gods provide,

if flounder had flown

as in his dreams

would escape of been so easy

from slithering mesh of net

camouflage

no use against human predator

machines of food consumption turned

weeping for a forest to hide

or wings for new serenity,

chosen ones stowed below

gasping small cast overboard,

relieved to escape fishmongers knife,

there is a forest where flounder fly

and in our hearts

let’s keep it that way

once a pair now alone

worn paranzella dragger converted,

with diesel stained captain

hauling on throttle,

bow cut water

wake washed away,

now a yankee otter class

new purpose glint in eye,

flounder that captains gold

flat dull fish,

yet so beautiful

a detrivore lying on a bed

of crystallized sand,

speckled jewel to be drawn up

with others of it’s kind,

left side lying with

right side patient black eyes,

captain looked upon a sea

that did not boil

nets set as radio played,

remembering as a child

cutting paper flounder out of newspaper

mounted on card

in the ocean of imagination

with it’s more vivid life

between trees that stretched

up from ocean floor

where seahorses hide

leaf litter making hedgehog home

not knowing xylophagy

and that the flounder did not,

the ocean a multicoloured

imagined feast

of eternal food gods provide,

if flounder had flown

as in his dreams

would escape of been so easy

from slithering mesh of net

camouflage

no use against human predator

machines of food consumption turned

weeping for a forest to hide

or wings for new serenity,

chosen ones stowed below

gasping small cast overboard,

relieved to escape fishmongers knife,

there is a forest where flounder fly

and in our hearts

let’s keep it that way

once a pair now alone

worn paranzella dragger converted,

with diesel stained captain

hauling on throttle,

bow cut water

wake washed away,

now a yankee otter class

new purpose glint in eye,

flounder that captains gold

flat dull fish,

yet so beautiful

a detrivore lying on a bed

of crystallized sand,

speckled jewel to be drawn up

with others of it’s kind,

left side lying with

right side patient black eyes,

captain looked upon a sea

that did not boil

nets set as radio played,

remembering as a child

cutting paper flounder out of newspaper

mounted on card

in the ocean of imagination

with it’s more vivid life

between trees that stretched

up from ocean floor

where seahorses hide

leaf litter making hedgehog home

not knowing xylophagy

and that the flounder did not,

the ocean a multicoloured

imagined feast

of eternal food gods provide,

if flounder had flown

as in his dreams

would escape of been so easy

from slithering mesh of net

camouflage

no use against human predator

machines of food consumption turned

weeping for a forest to hide

or wings for new serenity,

chosen ones stowed below

gasping small cast overboard,

relieved to escape fishmongers knife,

there is a forest where flounder fly

and in our hearts

let’s keep it that way

once a pair now alone

worn paranzella dragger converted,

with diesel stained captain

hauling on throttle,

bow cut water

wake washed away,

now a yankee otter class

new purpose glint in eye,

flounder that captains gold

flat dull fish,

yet so beautiful

a detrivore lying on a bed

of crystallized sand,

speckled jewel to be drawn up

with others of it’s kind,

left side lying with

right side patient black eyes,

captain looked upon a sea

that did not boil

nets set as radio played,

remembering as a child

cutting paper flounder out of newspaper

mounted on card

in the ocean of imagination

with it’s more vivid life

between trees that stretched

up from ocean floor

where seahorses hide

leaf litter making hedgehog home

not knowing xylophagy

and that the flounder did not,

the ocean a multicoloured

imagined feast

of eternal food gods provide,

if flounder had flown

as in his dreams

would escape of been so easy

from slithering mesh of net

camouflage

no use against human predator

machines of food consumption turned

weeping for a forest to hide

or wings for new serenity,

chosen ones stowed below

gasping small cast overboard,

relieved to escape fishmongers knife,

there is a forest where flounder fly

and in our hearts

let’s keep it that way

once a pair now alone

worn paranzella dragger converted,

with diesel stained captain

hauling on throttle,

bow cut water

wake washed away,

now a yankee otter class

new purpose glint in eye,

flounder that captains gold

flat dull fish,

yet so beautiful

a detrivore lying on a bed

of crystallized sand,

speckled jewel to be drawn up

with others of it’s kind,

left side lying with

right side patient black eyes,

captain looked upon a sea

that did not boil

nets set as radio played,

remembering as a child

cutting paper flounder out of newspaper

mounted on card

in the ocean of imagination

with it’s more vivid life

between trees that stretched

up from ocean floor

where seahorses hide

leaf litter making hedgehog home

not knowing xylophagy

and that the flounder did not,

the ocean a multicoloured

imagined feast

of eternal food gods provide,

if flounder had flown

as in his dreams

would escape of been so easy

from slithering mesh of net

camouflage

no use against human predator

machines of food consumption turned

weeping for a forest to hide

or wings for new serenity,

chosen ones stowed below

gasping small cast overboard,

relieved to escape fishmongers knife,

there is a forest where flounder fly

and in our hearts

let’s keep it that way

once a pair now alone

worn paranzella dragger converted,

with diesel stained captain

hauling on throttle,

bow cut water

wake washed away,

now a yankee otter class

new purpose glint in eye,

flounder that captains gold

flat dull fish,

yet so beautiful

a detrivore lying on a bed

of crystallized sand,

speckled jewel to be drawn up

with others of it’s kind,

left side lying with

right side patient black eyes,

captain looked upon a sea

that did not boil

nets set as radio played,

remembering as a child

cutting paper flounder out of newspaper

mounted on card

in the ocean of imagination

with it’s more vivid life

between trees that stretched

up from ocean floor

where seahorses hide

leaf litter making hedgehog home

not knowing xylophagy

and that the flounder did not,

the ocean a multicoloured

imagined feast

of eternal food gods provide,

if flounder had flown

as in his dreams

would escape of been so easy

from slithering mesh of net

camouflage

no use against human predator

machines of food consumption turned

weeping for a forest to hide

or wings for new serenity,

chosen ones stowed below

gasping small cast overboard,

relieved to escape fishmongers knife,

there is a forest where flounder fly

and in our hearts

let’s keep it that way

once a pair now alone

worn paranzella dragger converted,

with diesel stained captain

hauling on throttle,

bow cut water

wake washed away,

now a yankee otter class

new purpose glint in eye,

flounder that captains gold

flat dull fish,

yet so beautiful

a detrivore lying on a bed

of crystallized sand,

speckled jewel to be drawn up

with others of it’s kind,

left side lying with

right side patient black eyes,

captain looked upon a sea

that did not boil

nets set as radio played,

remembering as a child

cutting paper flounder out of newspaper

mounted on card

in the ocean of imagination

with it’s more vivid life

between trees that stretched

up from ocean floor

where seahorses hide

leaf litter making hedgehog home

not knowing xylophagy

and that the flounder did not,

the ocean a multicoloured

imagined feast

of eternal food gods provide,

if flounder had flown

as in his dreams

would escape of been so easy

from slithering mesh of net

camouflage

no use against human predator

machines of food consumption turned

weeping for a forest to hide

or wings for new serenity,

chosen ones stowed below

gasping small cast overboard,

relieved to escape fishmongers knife,

there is a forest where flounder fly

and in our hearts

let’s keep it that way

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

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/