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/

cumbria caravan , eastern view

Chris Lawrence Phoneography

4:30am

spelltime hour of silence

light defaces the sky

and sun confronts glass,

i am a discordant instrument

out of tune,

field and track make profiles

in the light,

rabbit flashes white tail

crows beckon with raw calls,

everyone is sleeping,

alone without cellphone coverage

or far reaching internet,

my problems an essential alphabet

to be categorized and processed

without many answers,

flushed with a sense of panic

brighter light folds about me,

besides dad gone since january

people move about my head

reaching for my attention

often stumbling,

sipping coffee

i asked them to be patient

my service was slow

attention would come

from the sleep abandoned

most awake now,

allowing the light to reach my retina

but there it stopped,

inside was still a bleak landscape

of whatever,

and i had not cleaned it up yet

 

elephant looks in a broken mirror

when a thought becomes a fraction

divided into memory

and everyday fatigue

it settles not happy to remain

will divide again

into dreams and realization

long cerebral passageways

cluttered with electric snapshots

of a life lived long,

thinking was a process

started in the morning

after rinsing mouth and bathing

combed and prepared

opened the mind

some fractions found division harder

and became elongated spools

of tension and agitation

hands that tremor

ever so slightly

as sipping a glass of lemonade,

beneath this mass of

seething activity

normal had almost resumed

old fractions worked

looking at a photo album

your son found in the loft

other debris of a life in one place

gathered and divided

and will be when your

gone

 

 

Landscape of the Fifth Floor

knots of morning undone

drapes drawn,

fifth floor apartment coffee,

watching those below

could it be so cynical

to be so aware

of the origins of man,

that your afraid to be

sociable and charming,

instead insular alone

liking only the moment

in coffee house or theatre,

beneath sodium street lights

faces look yellow waxen

and by day bright gaunt,

the apartment a sanctuary

to tend ones misery alone,

not obsolete in it’s use

walls plain adorned,

book filled cases

carried on broad oak shoulders

weighted in gilt edged pages

words that offered companionship

no human heart could feel,

paintings offered other vista’s,

beside the windows

and their velvet companions,

within this architecture womb

life was normal.

 

http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/