long night after flesh (world poetry day)

fog
a thick rope about my neck
tethered me to harbor wall
goat to oceans sacrifice,
behind obscured
lights and windows of those
who do not feel this way,
having taken the bus
found myself here,
bagged empty bottle
at my feet,
if any cigarette’s remained
i would of lit one
tasted toasted tobacco
tongue on teeth
chin to chest,
dark swirl foam
nymphs invite embrace
no fear in my heart
not the the fear i had felt
before she touched
fingertips before stepping
out of the door
with him,
closed my eyes wished to fall
forward and accept that
deep fate,
yet i flew
leaving behind the wall
and those if they had looked
would of observed
me leaving

 

World Poetry Day 2014

lawnchair before sunrise

ants led the way to the old boathouse
planks softened and warped
shingle roof dipped,
door scraped rough to touch
inside musty scent of the past decaying,
memories inserted of another life,
stacked next to tins forgotten and paint,
four lawnchairs
metal mottled chrome flaked
still cold to the touch,
infused with a past when
there where echoes of a young
family that once been
part of me,
lifting one out
stiff opening action,
outside in the air
it could of turned to dust,
instead it bore my weight
now i had passed an elegant age
lighter not so heavy,
eyes dimmed slowly in slumber,
this chair was symbolic in it’s structure
bending straps
rubber perished
one snapped,
i did not want to move
with wild turkey
and some cigars,
would i see the sunrise
that would have to wait till morning

image from recyclart.org

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

kohler_wolfgang

 

chewing the inside of your mouth yesterday

three inhuman seconds

and his mouth meat bled

one bite stress induced

a soloist on the telephone

making obscene financial calls

scratching a flabby stomach

still held the phone

the woman a thousand fibers away

still howled

fiscal abuse

he had spoken off the script

probing her dollars

sliding inside her head

avoiding indignant sounds

her whole life on his computer screen

a random credit score

he had pushed to far

stench of cheap deodorant

dropping the phone

he ran

red nylon carpets flashed by

everybody watched

as outside the double doors

he vomited with blood

from his cheek

too afraid to return

walked towards

somewhere else

3wordwednesday

 

 

first degree

some river my birth

some river my breath

some river my knowledge

some river i am condemned

some river my clock fails

some river the sun is ravenous

some river my crossing

some river my burden

some river my love

some river trust not regained

some river my being

some river to which i return

some river my body

some river my murder

some river my unfound

to tangled silence

Anaphora at dVersePoets

when she flies

loathing had been a mirror of his sleep,

now without sanitorium or astral light,

deaths pungency had gone

she lay before him,

naked as the solemnized wedding bed,

sewn with silk and love

cerise ridge scars

created with a skill he never knew he had,

her offal once mortal

he feasted upon

washed with wine and tears,

absorbing her

leaving her with mechanics,

parting her legs

felt for the copper tube

inserted handle

and turned each activating

and animating,

mechanical precision went into motion

body shuddered

eyes a shade of fog fluttered open,

she could move

with silence as her voice was no more,

he helped her dress

that velvet gown

he loved so much,

outside to walk again

without fear of bacteria or virus

morning filled the mountains with shadow,

holding hands

her face a dark riddle,

in her eyes she had the knowledge

to do the same for him

when that time came

to walk immortal together,

then she paused

he thought mechanics had failed

as she began to lift off the ground

taking flight,

he panicked calling out

as she slipped out of grasp,

soared higher into air

unable to reply,

that she had a lover she had

to find

magpie tales statue stamp 185

chagall, art, surrealism, steampunk

Chagall

 

 

the other line

she  listened to

the cd bought by you

two birthdays ago,

classic love songs,

phone cradled by her mouth

waiting

to hear a real human

not the automated response

only the real voice had come

masked by the music,

a thousand miles away

in a call center ,

he heard her breathing

murmur of lyrics

as she sang,

his phone did not move

from his ear,

waiting to speak

too afraid to lose

the connection,

waited for her to speak first