Blast

cumulonimbus squall

of a headache

tore me out of delirium

to blister pack paracetamol

choked almost

that raw pharmaceutical taste

mug of tea

apple spiced

wishing the phone

would cease

exhausted now

as silence fell

I took to being asleep

with tainted tongue

and abstract thoughts

Issa Lopez -Tigers are not Afraid of the Dark

Issa Lopez delivers a film , now streaming on Shudder that will in parts crawl inside or just be absorbed , a young cast who are accomplished , honest and natural Estrella played by Paola Lara makes you feel each strand of loss and abandon , and El Shine she meets who is so succinctly played by Juan Ramon Lopez each and every cast member gives something , so much so that there time on film is not wasted.

When it comes to production I don’t think you could ask for more, Juan Jose Saravia handles the cinematography in a way that like in a documentary you live it fully, underpinned by Vince Popes score that steers , aligns but but never overwhelm.

This truly is 10/10 film and I look forward to what Issa does next

Phimosis Postibi

conduit shrugs

from sleepy wither

morning scrapes

itself off the night

with bruised studded clouds

I will shower

soaps lather run

looming down

at the hoodless one

shaped contour of

male tissue erectile

veined with coming age

desensitized to cotton touch

hidden behind

clasp of gideon sundbuck

soft towel rub

once retreated

so nobody will know

it’s a shame

that this dome

quite architectural

with narrow eye

can shine and shimmer

in fluid moments

of interaction

but for now

the day pale clad

has begun

me as of today

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

blood of the cucurbita

we are myth

we are legend,

behind fences we are found

bred and sacrificed on all hallows eve,

generations past

gutted and carved in celebration,

so misunderstood seen only as decoration

as human skulls on poles once where,

unlike my wild cousins in mexico

scattered over landscape and mountain,

they do not suffer the tampering

of our genetics

79 loci,

phenotypic slides for frankenstein,s scientist

altered , inbred,

not realizing our beauty

in shape and color

palmate leaves , long tendrils

unisexual flowers touched by gentle bee

curling about stamen

stroking with long legs

collecting pollen my yellow stain

peponapis body thrumming

resonant on my petals,

10,000 years of domestication

treated worse than dogs

compliant in nature as man knows best

our flesh substance forgotten

as gourd display incised and flensed

to amuse and terrify

projects of another’s nature

that is more disturbing and cruel

poetry, poem , fall

shadows seek me

when we made love

you were of clay

lifted from the earth

by a meteor of expression,

our bodies edges of the galaxy

each impression on your skin

molding shaping soft texture

never faceless

your weight rises

and i receive

fingers absorbed in folds of hair

from my chest the golden glow

autumn spilled it’s leaves over us

disguising blood that flowed,

it was an unchanging earth

with many things futile,

rolling back as we divided

i became an island

with currents between us,

you began to crumble

that damp softness hardening

grasping with hands and kisses,

pieces fell each touched by a tear,

till i am left with a hollow patch

of earth unseeded

with nothing to grow,

fire and water burn my brow,

dreams can be cruel

when the waking surrounds you

with the honest loneliness

that you did not

want to remember

burning crooked roses

coyotes yip !

as i walk through baby cyclones

up the stairs to the sky

as she remained

on sweating rocking horse

deeply sea pearl glint in eye,

oh is there anything else other

than immortality,

reward and wisdom,

have i become the dog

that runs through muddy rivers

to wash the gasoline of brutality off,

i will never see an algae

covered stone coffin,

horse keeps rocking

travelling this

unremarkable earth machine,

stairs behind me

as are leaking babies

and crushed beercans,

no cloud castle

old vagrants song rings softly,

weeping in whitman’s embrace

i have left human shape

finger shadows reach

as frozen spider would,

my once and fevered love

rides on

poetry , poem

threat of nature

waxwing

on your long leafed bough

through your mask

why do you fucking stare at me

through the window

i stare back

do you see me for what i am

a cuckoo

in another’s nest

mating with another’s wife

i cant help it

you beautiful bastard

if i had a gun

i would shoot you

yet watching head bow

beak rub bark

fragile in bone and feathers

you are nervous

afraid of predators

above and below

so fuck you

i am of the high order species

and do not forget

it