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

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

poetry , poem

dversepoets.com

 

love gone beserk

isolation makes me jump
into the shredding propeller of her tongue
it was Hi 8 and stereo record player
and a sense we belonged,
wiping nose on my hand
then on those jeans strained and faded,
we could make it work maybe,
her nightgown had buttons
linear nipples of distraction,
i would run
if it where not the seventeenth floor
and no closer to heaven,
her voice slowed quicker
than the snow outside,
are we done
gun still pressed in my back waistband
you look done
i  felt battered beyond the cut over eye
and bloodied nose,
the projects would have heroes
i was not one of them,
failing to hold up the store
girl cashier
younger
faded blonde dye and dark roots,
i spoke and connected,
pulled a flower from the bunches
sold cheaply at the desk
and gave it to her,
a startling explosion
as manager hit me with a piece of wood,
i ran
never said goodbye
but i know who
i wanted now

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

beat, poetry , poem

dVersePoets

wordle, sound, war

Sunday Whirl

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

 

 

in the greatness

from his minaret

a muezzin calls,

seeing new light lengthen

into shadows on the streets

as those of prayer approach,

first of five calls

that he never forgot

he served god as a voice,

sound of wings caught attention

a white falcon landed before him

perched on stone edge

head tilted

eyes spoke more than the beak,

voice faltered in mid call

from the remnants of dark

tattered crows flew in

looking for the rejected brother

kaf left behind,

muezzin touched falcons face

communicating

as the faithful below watched,

crows taunted minaret

hollow eyes caught flash

of gold,

muezzin had been spoken to

a journey to be undertaken

to which of the seven valleys

he was unsure,

he had to find the bond and unity

that once nurtured earth

as he had remembered it,

with falcon on arm

stepped down spiral staircase

a purpose found

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

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

fish, art, nedia

a fishy story by judith clay
http://society6.com/judithclay

endured no more

titian tints of summer yield

forgetting and embracing

wind and rain,

winter would come with shackles

a home,

citadel of seclusion

sphere light bulbs and ticking clocks

here you can contemplate

the different shades of life

and it’s own complex fate,

grey heart beats,

distilled whiskey poured in

glass streaked by fingers

that once touched face,

without silken words

she would return

and the fevered mind would clear

moments of indiscretion

reshape reform

music would attract,

moth like fluttering in her heart

and the once broken tongue

would speak again

healing a process

begun

poignant limitations of sorrow

jeweled tombs of once visionary eyes

that had lost fiery lightning and the moon,

withdrawn no supernatural

accomplishment,

as symbols of obscure hours

watched with a disdain for light

becoming soiled by the soul

with august sorrows,

mankind knew of many merciless rulers

who used terror as supreme power,

rebellion awakened from stubborn sleep,

imagination of those

seeing a future others had not

next morning would have many suggestions,

vanity would not nurse emotion

bullets would not be kissed by lips

that spoke of treacherous dreams,

music of voices spread over cities

and blue skied landscapes,

plans conceived with  tears

and women taking widows veil,

television messages and distortion

vulgar external eyes

hands folded on lap

pretend subtle debate and interest

whilst buildings burn

assured rocks thrown

defiance not disguised,

all interior tragedies have those warriors

the fallen and fables,

but all endings are not the same

for that you have to wait

for winters grasp

secret and vague in austerity

moon in nightspace became silversmith

light hammered over island

catching the nudity

i kept vigil over,

a saddened animal

hunched in an undergrowth habitat

i fed on something that dreams give

as i watched

her polished by tides overwhelm,

i could of been a nation on it’s knees

waiting for that one that comes

and brings a substance,

yet too afraid to show yourself

for fear of spoiling a grand occasion,

damp skin

natures jeweler working diamonds on,

a martyred bird called out

shriek of the night

she turned and i was certain of being seen

my eyes would be vivid in the darkness,

retreating with a tread  so soft,

knowing as you saw swept long hair

i would not possess

despite the urgency of my loins

without satisfaction i would have to wait

as this was not the night

dverselogo