hegel gothic

a fugitive from that clear tear

filled reservoir,

she had not used despite

emotional fractures,

his fracking of her loins

as a way to magic love gases

leaving stains on nocturnal linen,

it was a dimension of time

she did not want to fill,

running through avenue of trees

and answer that once and only calling

leaving vomit on tree roots,

offering to those sprites that

intrigue our fairytale curiosity ,

dark folds and long chimed bell,

within heavy breasted heart

answers writhed as a bed

of worms center of her being

and all that it withstands,

change had many prices

and used only certain currencies

that she had to pay,

was it worth it

nail scrawled words on her back

proved it

 

poetry , poem, poet

Sunday whirl

banner

 

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

fish, art, nedia

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

life and all inbetween

knotted wings of crows

with scarce strength

rise into rain,

below vegetation

burnished by fall

listens to the calls,

damp rooted trees

in eroded soil

cover to our

consummation,

revisited after twenty

years,

as one we move

our lives wove a story,

origin in these fields

birth from these fields

as cells would watch

these fields and woodland,

a last exhalation,

we would not return

an act of memory

physical and intricate

framed in the cortex

for tomorrow

119

 

Sunday Whirl, poems

Sunday Whirl 119

 

concupiscence

he fled those vicissitudes

and hid in the parables

that spread like marmalade

over his life,

as an intrinsic alchemist

transforming the jewels

that drew light into her eyes

nymphlike was not always,

she kissed his lyre

and lingered on the notes

crouched mouth to mouth

the dust of longness

passed between them

hands often released

and time again became frail

his tremors sounded as trumpets

with impossible sobbing

a deep reconciliation

a finger of saffron stained

the tongue

and wafted in embrace

yet he could no more

and neither she

amazed at speech carnivals

that wound words over

rolling track

pirouetting horses dance

to an inconvenient truth,

he listened to the stars

and read long passages

delirious now that it was

divisible,

tomorrow became perpetual

sinuous flow

 

word of the day your favorite word i got carried away again so i hope it works as i have not been functioning so well recently , all the best

 

no more dirty shoes

moon leaves hoofprint clouds

as with horses it races,

old stars more than pieces of rock

show somber interest,

there would be no more

shallowness to  the sun,

as on earth below

with fingers in urn

scattering ashes

feeding eternal foliage,

those hoofbeats drummed your name

quick reflection passing over water

ashamed moon hides,

the longness of souls given to solitude,

ashes scattered in arcs

summer has laid it’s green pasture

as darkness fills the air

fireflies imagined appear

wishing for a net to catch them in

and crush with celestial hammer,

empty urn falls

shattered by hoofbeats,

damp meadow reveals the place

you began,

ambiguous shadows almost bestial,

tears make streets upon your face

all that could be over was,

coming with dust, dreams and flesh

the enchanted

and persistent stars

dverselogo

Shuji Terayama – Labyrinth Tale

Shuji Terayama – Labyrinth Tale from Doom4s on Vimeo.

illustration 9

ants loud enough

close to his head,

reprieve of summer cool

as he lay under his cart

pushed for close to a mile

finding geography

awkward to place

despite being his city once,

his mind a squoze larvae

thoughts brief as a snakes hiss,

irritable tongue of weeds,

lying still

close to impossible,

underpass old concrete walls

tagged by youth

more used to shooting than talking

overhead cars heat and horses,

smells nasal reverberations

he would feel quieter

if at the bottom of a lake

where on it’s silted bed

with fishes as companions

devouring algae from his closed  eyes,

heat would be gone

and his mind would make sense,

the moon did not bring night rain,

eventually he stood

rocking on heels

than began to walk

this time he would find the start

of his journey

Little Tombstone – ESMA