Hoylake is the centre of seasonal gifts and joy , with an ice rink as well , Spikey Mouse Photography will be there with a fine array of art gifts
Tag Archives: lifestyle
Alexander Rodchenko, Vladamir Mayakovsky – Galoshes Persia 1925
Rodchenko, Mayakovsky
Galoshes advert 1925
Alexander Rodchenko
Advertising Poster urging to buy galoshes:
“Galoshes by Ruber Trust are the best.
They are worn in the north, south and west”
Made by Ruber Trust
1920’s
Text by V. Mayakovsky
Interesting piece of advertising in Persia
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
bourbon flavored font’s
two glasses unwashed
sat upended fragile in their shine,
opened bourbon
a long mouthful held then swallowed
his bourbon her breakfast,
moving from one room to another
morning cool on skin
she wore only panties,
typewriter on oak
bold keys hold promise
again it was his
the cat shared moved onto lap
as sitting down,
chatter of keys as poetry flowed,
to him she was a disposable muse,
she did not care
being on all fours
fucked from behind
staring at cotton bed linen
her mind could think
without his face ,
all he needed was the mirror to pose,
weave of cotton held a story
as she thought of next poem
he too had release,
it was a kind of love,
they used each other in
different ways
New Brighton Resort
Kat Candler- Black Metal (Sundance 2013 )
Breakfast Remedy
coffee gone acrid in the pot
poured into sink,
paper folded on table by
empty breakfast plates,
i popped a warm beer
sipped that instead
i am going to the racetrack
she bent in pale nightgown
you don’t belong there
thirty dollars in the pocket
closed door went to sharp
lit Rabbit out front,
it started first time
radio sparked with static
twisted dial found a station
(you do not belong there)
i should of responded i can
do what i like but avoided
the argument,
instead it became internal
an argument with myself,
music playing
[Kansas sang this is my beginning ]
maybe it was
(i love you)
i knew she did her face expressed
it all
[Tomorrow holds my hand ]
would it really be there
conversation with her inside
me and radio increased
it irritated me that Kansas
had changed,
(don’t i make you happy)
yes you do very much
my head felt messed up
finding it hard to decipher
what was song , her or me
[Yesterday is dead and gone]
no i could not let it go
from when i first touched
her face 7 years ago
i knew
(don’t i make you happy)
she had been down and
i had been blind
[Buried in the sand ]
that was true i had placed
myself there avoiding what
[the vision stands before me ]
yes she was and i feel that
now,
i had dropped off the interstate
pulled over and wanted to
hit the steering wheel but pain
was not needed,
[and now there is nothing else ]
i hear you
i shouted at the radio,
sometimes a song can place a
reality in you,
tires bit into blacktop
turned about,
moments to return
parked at angle to sidewalk,
ran up the path to the door
opened quickly
dishes washed away
heard no radio
only her singing in the shower
shouldered open door
into steam hot mist
she startled as i took her in
my arms and held her
as if for the first time
of an eternity
Raw Oxidized
Oxidized bent into alternate shape
steel formed and defined
by us one fall,
the old green blanket
dragged from Buick trunk,
beyond the sink and realtor hours,
arranged a promise to meet,
gold on fingers no restraint,
cool mist spread
as if to muffle those who knew us,
temptations touch was strong,
discreet parked,
sparse tree’s that would be acquainted
with color again in spring,
tremors and kisses,
only sounds our clothes
and hands as they spoke in undressing,
flesh tinted by greasy window light,
all yearning was concentrated
upon each each other not in love
but temptation and lust,
to know each other briefly
not eternally,
hearts cluttered with other worlds
of length and importance,
this was an only moment,
for her it would evaporate,
for me as i stand
then bow touching bent steel,
i remember that truly
wanting something unable to attain,
love had been a receding tide
and new island found
but that too had been consumed and lost,
and i was left with a memory
beneath graying folds of hair
velvetmedia 