Letras Canarias 2014 Agustin Millares Sall

Not Worth It

You say it is not worth
putting the blue I sleep under the sheets,
pass by, knowing nothing,
turning a blind eye to what happens,
keep the thirst of stars locked.

You say it’s not worth
losing the love speech,
that reason street,
that joy breaks his words,
that passion confess: there’s no blood.

I tell you not worth
the gray always get away with it,
the black rescind an
and say “cross and Stripes” to Glee air.
‘ll be back to the load and I say here will not be
hiding his head under the wing,
say “did not know”, “I’m outside”,
“living in my tower, and only I know nothing.”
you say, and I repeat it is not worth.

No Vale

Te digo que no vale
meter el sueño azul bajo las sábanas,
pasar de largo, no saber nada,
hacer la vista gorda a lo que pasa,
guardar la sed de estrellas bajo llave.

Te digo que no vale
que el amor pierda el habla,
que la razón se calle,
que la alegría rompa sus palabras,
que la pasión confiese: aquí no hay sangre.

Te digo que no vale
que el gris siempre se salga con la suya,
que el negro se desmande
y diga “cruz y raya” al júbilo del aire.
Vuelvo a la carga y te digo: aquí no cabe
esconder la cabeza bajo el ala,
decir “no sabía”, “estoy al margen”,
”vivo en mi torre, sólo y no sé nada”.
Te digo y te repito que no vale.

Salute

I salute you and greet friend chant
as if I had always known.
can not be wrong after you’ve heard.
Thou art of the sun I’ve waited so long.

Hail friend hug you excited
through the fog through which the day.
With a wealth of poetry and light
the darkest corner had been lit.

The path you teach me I is not unknown.
‘ve gone for it without knowing calm.
before your words reach my soul
and your ideas had burnt my life.

It is true that these years have not lived
, but only the time spent beyond us
that there are higher star without even suspecting
that the great century forging many have passed.

You gave your freedom is like giving everything
for the joy in ringing the bell.
A piece of your life brindas every morning
for the whole world to get out of the mud.

I assure friend who had never been
so close to life at this time.
doubt where your breath comes not possible.
You go by the plain of a clear sky.

Poet I declare that your accent is deep
in the veins that carry the rivers of a planet.
poet I declare that you are a poet
and sing announce that tomorrow the world.

II

I declare that writing poetry poet
is the true state of man
is singing the truth is to call by name
the demon holding the evil day and night.

The poet is the cry that the earth releases
the first mountain currency aurora
bell song playing when
the first heart that hurts the war.

Posted in art without ever untie
his unity with the peoples of the whole vision
the poet is the man who is first to point
to gain impetus to the sea combat.

The poet is the town that refuses to die
in sudden night where everything is forgotten.
Where there is no freedom there is no poet alive.
No bird fly where the air does not exist.

I declare that the poet is a rage
when something goes against the sun to guide us.
poet languishes if the earth cools
when there is no heart, no justice.

Poet I declare that the hard way
of the poet is always found a brother.
poet I declare that the poet is human
but sometimes we do foresee the divine.

Saludo

Yo te saludo amigo te saludo y te canto
igual que si te hubiera de siempre conocido.
No puedo equivocarme después de haberte oído.
Tú eres parte del sol que yo he esperado tanto.

Yo te saludo amigo te abrazo emocionado
a través de la niebla por donde pasa el día.
Con tu enorme caudal de luz y poesía
el rincón más oscuro se hubiera iluminado.

La senda que me enseñas no me es desconocida.
He marchado por ella sin conocer la calma.
Antes que tus palabras me llegaran al alma
ya habían tus ideas incendiado mi vida.

Es verdad que estos años no los hemos vivido
sino sólo pasado que el tiempo nos supera
que hay estrellas más altas sin sospechar siquiera
que forjando el gran siglo muchos han transcurrido.

Diste tu libertad que es como darlo todo
para que la alegría repique en la campana.
Un trozo de tu vida brindas cada mañana
para que el mundo entero pueda salir del lodo.

Yo te aseguro amigo que nunca había estado
tan cerca de la vida como en este momento.
No es posible la duda donde llega tu aliento.
Tú vas por la llanura de un cielo despejado.

Yo poeta declaro que tu acento es profundo
que llevas en las venas los ríos de un planeta.
Yo poeta declaro que tú eres poeta
porque anuncias y cantas el mañana del mundo.

II

Yo poeta declaro que escribir poesía
es decir el estado verdadero del hombre
es cantar la verdad es llamar por su nombre
al demonio que ejerce la maldad noche y día.

El poeta es el grito que libera la tierra
la primera montaña que divisa la aurora
la campana que toca la canción de la hora
el primer corazón que lastima la guerra.

Colocado en vanguardia sin que nunca desate
su unidad con los pueblos su visión del conjunto
el poeta es el hombre que primero está a punto
para hacerse con bríos a la mar del combate.

El poeta es el pueblo que a morir se resiste
en la súbita noche donde todo se olvida.
Donde no hay libertad no hay poeta con vida.
Ningún pájaro vuela donde el aire no existe.

Yo poeta declaro que la cólera es una
cuando hay algo que atenta contra el sol que nos guía.
Languidece el poeta si la tierra se enfría
cuando no hay corazón ni justicia ninguna.

Yo poeta declaro que en el duro camino
del tiempo el poeta se halla siempre un hermano.
Yo poeta declaro que el poeta es humano
aunque a veces nos haga presentir lo divino.

asymmetric sexuality

night brought little clarity
between motel and slaughterhouse
it was a new jersey mythology
of white paint and brazen neon,
from the chevelle in the lot
they had come to meet
passed notes on realtor’s lined paper
two packs parliaments
hushed phone conversations
catalysts to the reaction
that imminent realization
of naked falling
upon bed worried with crumbs,
sheet shifted over sanitary cover
quilt shed to worn green nylon carpet,
by her side lay against her
it rested tacked by it’s own stickiness
to her leg,
now it was done
last moment devoid of thought
when she rolled it like a cigarette
licking with an anxious care,
this all for what,
that wooden mask of his face
expressionless
caressing her breasts
moving stiff fingers back and forth,
they where now derelict
in exploded rubble of emotion
it took her time to control her lip,
eyes could of burned,
but now all truth had been eliminated
and they would not see each other again

http://dversepoets.com/

maelstrom

ardors grip
blinding as searing light
tears open caring heart
anger as old as creation,
tears at family daisy chain
crushing stems
leaving it broken
unhooked green stems
wilting broken asunder
where was the stars
and the open eyes
heart chimed
a mother resolute
that a son will be
not dead to her
but salvage
to be gathered
and supported
mending can be heard
in the blur of tears,
fragile dreams
will be recovered slowly
with different endings
when the darkness
vanishes

http://dversepoets.com/

dead pilot of the apartment building

x had been an activist
man with tentative government connections
who smoked turkish cigarettes,
constant watching in his decay
bare earth surface
at his seat he had died
virus swift had come
someone in apartment 76 had coughed
still powered by central core engines
apartment building zero utopia
named as a joke
lifted it’s ungainly shape higher
loosening from the failing gravity
two hundred passengers decaying
yet within computated rooms
their souls engage
sparks electro magnetic vibration
they would immerse and combine
be the ship was guided away
zero utopia would be one
with the stars
it’s occupants entering a new existence
that darwin and the bible
could never of imagined

dversepoets.com

 

17 , 17 syllable American Sentences

Following a dVerse incentive i try the American Sentence a flourish of lines at 4am this morning hope they go down ok

1: his nose punched flat lips split pouted looking for a fight every night

2: a can of schlitz sunset and low slung impala remedy for loss

3: obstinate kisses infect toothache jaw ache headache neurology needed

4: motel marinade coated and baked off counted dollars and returned to the street

5: diamond finger tug gold band reminder these kisses where illicit

6: sat hunched on the toilet hand working the memory that he had betrayed

7: winters pale counterpane gave no shelter for the rabbit from predatory air

8: reasons could be found on the diminishing length of yesterdays words

9: dial the number wait for tone he would not answer he is long gone

10: jazz piano raw as her voice began to crack it was no longer 1954

11: seek the stars and they will not shine anticipating the moment to surprise

12: guitar strings strangle all chances of finding reconciliation

13: two finger pressure shudder she releases a sigh he was erased

14: bellboy at end of marble hall hear titans whisper demise of poor

15: grandpa’s hand once so steady gone leaves remember tobacco smell

16: over ocean swathe she watches vessel under pirates color sail

17 : amity beach july bathers swim children play mayor falters shark prowls

http://dversepoets.com/

@dVersePoets and the joy of Googlism in three parts

bourbon

bourbon is made
bourbon is great for sipping
bourbon is not
bourbon is a family
bourbon is aged for 8 years
in new charred oak barrels
which is
lying to me
giving me eyes that see different
bourbon is a cross between an
autumn damask and a china rose
like you
eaten up by my madness
bottle madness
bourbon is velvet
cloaking the truth
despite all efforts
those eight years had gone

 

baton

baton is the tool
baton is probably the best one you get
baton is conducive for cabaret shows
baton is carried around
baton is rolled back and forth on arms
baton is great to defend yourself
baton is great for use in all
bondage and discipline situations
and comes as
baton is available in 16″
baton is best for crowd control situations
caligula would be proud
orgy proportions of a spanking latex riot
baton is combat
loss of control the eroticism
lost to a carnival mind
baton is in the hand it can twirl
baton is a sport that never really ends for me
camus you gave us him
caligula in his glory
no it is a counterpoison
antidote feeling beyond the math
baton is a non

 

pepper spray

pepper spray is often carried in the backcountry by biologists
pepper spray is on the agenda for today
pepper spray is safe
pepper spray is not a bear
pepper spray is made in the USA and factory fresh
pepper spray is a 1/2 ounce canister that is cased by stylish
plastic spongebob graphics
krusty krab innocence
of spatula mayhem
the enemy plankton
pepper spray is used on psychiatric patients
pepper spray is not for sale in Hawaii
so it cannot belong in
a pineapple under the sea
pepper spray is hot
at the burning griddle
plankton’s kind collected
searing their flesh
shaping and forming it to be
something edible
pepper spray is not a bear
as they cannot be found in our blue oceans
where our nation innocence
is a star in an armchair

http://dversepoets.com/

 

 

 

feathers of the elephant

tattooed with gandhi
no skin will lie,
bare butt piss
constant lemon stream,
she watched his fuzzy back
dark mat of curls
lined by her nails,
depressed bed
mattress coils gone
before their advertised expiry,
a week of this
longing and urgent,
walking back
she waited
a sharp twinge in her stomach,
the next day 
could not come quick enough

 

Charles Bukowski – Laughing Heart

Charles Bukowski

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

99% fractured glass

letterman taught liberal arts

bukowski master of the open portal

that caught flies and dirty blondes ,

there where no country estates

or manicured ladies in crinolene,

too much hubbub

and relentless spiral of those

who live in such an octopus town,

that solar flares light the street

and guide those whose frail stories

stumble over awkward words

and metaphor,

master of bliss

with shimmering teeth

and boiling stench caught on

warmer breeze

vigilant for kisses and erotic

composure,

severed happiness from tears

and kept each separate,

behind the doors of our octopus

town the withered languish

robbed of enchanted loins

and their tears now crystallized

as rings for deaths fingers,

clotted souls clogged

as choked diaphragms coughed and

hacked sluices of phlegm,

the doors opened for a moment each day

quick enough for a shadow to be

flung out,

madness was a bomb on every street corner,

diffused as she appeared,

her deceit to entice

and enchant,

womb of silken flotsam

carried nothing hopeful,

yet her heart once orphaned

brought a rising sun

that closed the portal

to bukowski’s dismay

letterman fell aside victim

to iron skies and sanities rent,

heal deep she called

finding it broken

and lambs put together the pieces

with a well chewed glue