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

Alejandro Jodorowsky – Dancing Poems (in English and Spanish)

The senses continually give what they receive / The world is modeled according to the way you think.

✽

Kind act pleasing perfume / glass of water poured unmanned / pure liquid is like the soul / created by the thirst of another benefit.

✽

The reality is embodied illusion / Birds sing because we believe in them / produce the melody between the two / eternity without them is not.

✽

I speak from the darker / Site Lamp From the river / takes the magic of life is the encounter with the countless deaths.

✽

Things are from the moment that we call our / discard them possess is / is in giving that you get.

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

dVersePoets

Sunday Whirl

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

 

 

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

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

 

 

Fathers Day

i am father

and my father was father before me

we are form

almost unified shape

tied by familial genetics,

i am here

my father gone

bond unbroken love unbound

memory and cohesion

i have many of his traits,

i am here

and he still is

of the dust of the wind

yet at my side

that rub of ache in the forehead

as his thoughts and mine collide,

i have voice

my children hear

i make it apparent

as i heard my father,

despite long hours of work

his words i could hold

and made me smile

a child growing taught what is right

molded by nurturing consideration,

i am love

to my children

as he to me

never too old to embrace

and accept eternal bond

now without him

i will carry on

and my sons

as fathers will

Ivan Hare 18/06/27-09/01/13

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

 

Hasso Krull – There Are Holes In The Road

There are holes in the road. There are holes in the earth.
Stepping forward I notice: there are holes in my boots.
Where there are holes, my socks show through,
I can see them, I know this because there are holes in my skull.

When rain falls into water, there are holes in the water.
As the droplets fall, I hear them because there are holes in my ears:
I stand and breathe because there are holes in my nose,
I move forward and think. Yes, there are holes in my thoughts.

There are holes in my words. Lao-zi thought
everything necessary came from emptiness—but tell me, friend,
what use would emptiness be if it wasn’t made of
holes beside holes? Large holes. Small holes.

Holes exist. Birth and death are holes.
There are black holes in the universe—maybe there are exits
to another place made of holes.
Exits are holes. The mouth, the heart, the intestines are holes.