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

obliged to function

[create a dream]
repetitive symbols and allegories
a habitual state of mind
within the complexity
of a certain strangeness,

it was a kiss/

significant to the external world
and not the four walled habitat

[interior body]
hearts and ideas created verses
spontaneous kiss
and delightful flesh
without absent things to deny,
music filled the simple sense
isolating the event
captured in his mind,
temptation a language of it’s own

an act of kiss/

[pure,impure]
moment cracked with resonance,
her eyes had claimed the
measurements of his passion,
without verbal matter to form
a leaf litter sheet

[fell upon her]

you discover in a kiss/

all named sciences describe
needs and imaginings ,
and in ache of after limbs,
aesthetic conditions
and those rules of attraction
will provide possibilities
for them

consistency of skin

the rain was inexhaustible,
drawing his jacket
closer about his chest,
pacific rain and bothered grey
clouds added to urgency,
trees in their reach
did not create a canopy
dense enough,
unable to hear the helicopter,
footprints dissolving into mud,
but his scent would illuminate
nostrils of eager tracker with
muted eyes,
lowering himself
more towards the bushes,
water ran over his face,
he still felt heading north
was an objective,
finding the cabin
would of been easy
had summer still been here,
pausing for the slightest breath,
looked up at limbs
grasping from the trunk,
and wondered would it be worth it,
there would be no more marvelous
sensations,
yesterdays vividness had given way
his futile hope screamed,
kneeling said a last prayer
and waited

maelstrom

ardors grip
blinding as searing light
tears open caring heart
anger as old as creation,
tears at family daisy chain
crushing stems
leaving it broken
unhooked green stems
wilting broken asunder
where was the stars
and the open eyes
heart chimed
a mother resolute
that a son will be
not dead to her
but salvage
to be gathered
and supported
mending can be heard
in the blur of tears,
fragile dreams
will be recovered slowly
with different endings
when the darkness
vanishes

dead pilot of the apartment building

x had been an activist
man with tentative government connections
who smoked turkish cigarettes,
constant watching in his decay
bare earth surface
at his seat he had died
virus swift had come
someone in apartment 76 had coughed
still powered by central core engines
apartment building zero utopia
named as a joke
lifted it’s ungainly shape higher
loosening from the failing gravity
two hundred passengers decaying
yet within computated rooms
their souls engage
sparks electro magnetic vibration
they would immerse and combine
be the ship was guided away
zero utopia would be one
with the stars
it’s occupants entering a new existence
that darwin and the bible
could never of imagined

poetry , poem

dversepoets.com

 

Typhoon ‘Yolanda’ Haiyan More Than Half a Million Left Homeless in Philippines

As the typhoon raged the worst storm on record my heart went out, we have friends whose family live in Cebu it all has happened so close to the earthquake last month.
Back in  1970 Gemino H Abad a great fillipino poet wrote How Our Towns Drown and i place a copy here for you to read, and send prayers, donate try to do whatever you can it all helps , keep Republika ng Pilipinas in our hearts as they recover.

How Our Towns Drown

how in the downpour
downstream of doom we are returned
houses and pigs in ceaseless procession
as skies boom and fall thundering spears
to beat down all curses and tears to tide
among driftwood, seaweed and water hyacinth’s
prayer wreaths for the dead and drowned

downstream of doom we are returned
tottering over manholes shivering in the blast
of a blind monsoon it’s hollow howl
the rolling dreariness of our emptied hills
our feet doubt the ground where streets
vanish in the gorge of swill and slime
to flood at last we are flotsam and scum

houses and pigs in ceaseless procession
and rushing past our brethren those lovelorn
cats and cockroaches among floating roofs
lumbering cadavers of cherished scrap
our naked brats scamper and gambol
over scavenged loot of murky things
tires and handbags , bottles and shoes

as skies fall boom and fall thundering spears
on Cherry Hill slumping down it’s slope
and shoveling homes in one boulder swoop
landfill of families in moaning mud
so sudden their screams no echoes bear
abducted to questioning rage of memory
by what “state of calamity” or “act of god”

to beat down all curses and tears to tides
Antipolo to Pangasinan the earth rivers
and shoves down Pinatubo’s  renegade ooze
to our paddies swelling to ocean of muck
fish ponds collapsing to swamp
for bridges are down and mountains too far
to flle and shelter from water’s gore

among seaweed , driftwood and water hyacinth’s
what word , what route, what water world
for breathing space, the floors of our dreams
but shiver their fittings and leak their gloom
clutch of seaweed for hair
driftwood for limbs , hyacinth’s for cloaks
what new indigene  only survivor  to offer

prayer wreath’s for the dead and drowned
requiescat  in peace .. vitam aeternam
so cradle the infant , swaddled in rubble grime
just now excavated and no mother to hush
it’s lost wail no father no sibling
surely now their wreck is deaf to cranes
or fingers digging, to what any change

how in the downpour our towns drown

phi8llipines

phillipines

philippines-typhoon-haiyan

poetry , poem, poet

Gemino H Abad

 

 

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

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

131

sunday whirl

 

 

 

and you know how to bake

around the mouth

cakemix stolen from the bowl

a taste of the unbaked

sweeter than expected,

holding back the urge

to lick lips noisily ,

washed it away

as a drunkard would

bottle sloshed whiskey

turned burnt caramel,

bowl slipped from edge

of table with enormous shatter,

pieces glazed

spread as his foot got cut

spilled as a sacrifice

for he was a prophet

born in anticipation

growing to expectation,

the world full of paraphernalia

that only a poet mends,

blood painted in circles,

scratching balls in shorts,

where was the thunder

to his profanity,

his stem to water

those fragrant vaginal daisies

errors and promises,

love had entered an interval,

trumps inflated cotton,

she came to see

shaking head

ash fell from her cigarette,

they had binds

beyond gold bands

and a chapel promise,

no atomic desolation would separate

leave it she would say

taking his hand

led to another room

more doors away from

the violent splatter on the walls

best to ignore

her voice sleepy not unsound

sat limply hung out to dry,

she stood adjusted nightgown,

it would be clean,

and wounds heal

maybe the interval was over

beat, poetry , poem

dVersePoets

wordle, sound, war

Sunday Whirl

A poem for dVersePoets and Sunday Whirl , dVerse needed a beat sound and i hope i hit the notes

 

 

concatenation

ethno totems

to sky conspire

landscape doors and views

memory an artifact

to a city bar,

snowprints on sidewalk

snowscape lean and pale

collect and exist

what love brings tangible

native ambiance

settled and answered

bring your dances

and embraces

bleak satirical cold

twisted with lime in gin

amid saxophones and guitars

as red flamed resonance,

word labels on her cheeks

written and said

walk out of the snow

into the light

sins well washed with winter rain

glass bowl sun

will rise with the headlines

that make no sense,

the night as always

long with relief,

closing eyes

alaska seemed much closer

 

Wolfgang Paalen Fata Alaska (1937)

Wolfgang Paalen
Fata Alaska (1937)