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

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

Olga Orozco- No Doors

With burning sands styling a number of fire over time,
law with a wild animal lurking danger from its burrow,
with vertigo looking up,
your love is kindled but a lamp in the middle of the night,
with small fragments of a world consecrated to idolatry,
with the sweetness of sleep with all your skin covering the cost of fear
in the shadow of leisure tenderly opened a range of celestial meadows,
did everyday loneliness I have.
My loneliness is made of you.
Take your name on your side of stone
in tense silence where they can play all the melodies of hell;
walk beside me with your empty step,
and has, like you, that look that I’m going to look farther each time,
yesterday to a glare that dissolves in tears, in ever.
The doors to my left as one leaves the heir to a
                   [Realm of anyone who goes out and never comes back.
And it grew by itself
feeding on these herbs that grow on the edges of memories
and on stormy nights produce mysterious mirages
scenes with the best bonfires fed fevers.
Well I’ve seen people with blurred malls who sacrifice love
-Invincible characters marble, blind-absorbed as the distance,
or deploy in the middle of a room that rain falling seaside
away in another part ¨,
where you will be filling the bowl with water a few years of neglect.
Sometimes blowing on me with a south wind
a stormy song that suddenly breaks into a broken throat groan of bliss,
or try to delete a piece of ragged hope
goodbye that you wrote with the blood of my dreams in all crystals
to smite everything I watch.
My loneliness is all I have of you.
Howl with your voice in every corner.
When named with your name
grows like a sore in the darkness.
And a sunset up in front of me
that cup of sky was the color of wet poplar and in which
                            [We have drunk the wine of eternity each day,
broke and not knowing, to open the veins,
for you were born as a god of his splendid duel.
And he could not die
and his look was that of a madwoman.
He opened a wall
and walked into this room with a room that has no outputs
and where you’re sitting, staring at you in another life like my solitude.

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

 

songs of the heart

suns pity shines

on the damaged boat,

listless resting on rocky beach

cracked paint and clouded windows,

once and a while ago

it moved on inlet

under sail and motor

bright painted with bright young things

sipping drinks,

swim shorts and bikinis

cast off bottles

peeled labels no messages

sink if not carried by current

settling with pale crabs

moving over bottom

withe sideward indifference

creations blood flowed,

and they aged,

a parked sedan

jacketed against the cold

a mans hand touched bow

feeling that old electricity,

seeing the vibrancy

that once had been

a life of splendor

poetry , poem

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

 

 

sedoka #2

clouds soft cloak nature

reign of fury dissipation

as drenched by isolation

furies last tremor she feels

he walks earthen tracks away

no more fury to caress

dazzling abstract

i am a prophet

with rolled up trousers

and open jacket,

i have heard violins in Paris

yet with smudged knees

before you entranced,

voice of pale sherbet

snare drum indulgence,

you took me  to the rooftops

overlooking fullest sea,

i wrote to the back of my skull

with it’s literary granite lesions,

flew with sunrise

alien chorus comes as

if both worlds imitate,

i wanted your eyes

before then went to sleep

to see the bondage we feel,

your spell fell on my ear

resistance would only be sorrow,

then to the shrieking jungle

riffs and strums

break the brittle shell on my heart

nymph and satyr

platter of desire,

i clutch the glittering prize

jazz, beat, poetry, media, club, lust

Ponytail by Last Exit, http://magpietales.blogspot.co.uk/

music, style, art, life, dream

fireproof monkey

elastic bound thoughts

contracted as  would a boiled egg

overdone,

 

helios hepped on jazz

found the stroke of sidewalk

blocks of bars and strip joints,

 

mind breathing everything

eyes registering the glass windows

of long to come

tomorrows,

when her kiss come

buick grille jaws of hell,

 

elastic could not tighten

anymore flared with worms

and a solitary fly,

noise flushed red of wanton art,

 

could i be a titan

writhing on that couch

with string hearted blonde

ivory lonely care

without tending priests,

poor dumb altar

with genius of my soul

her and my footsteps

made us kings and queens

of the carnival

and slumberers of the

dreary city doorways

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