lathe and plaster walls
divide a derelict

rooms part at doors,
holes
kicked through
and, unglazed frames.
light lingers on fragments
of lyric and latex.

rats scramble away
from nests;
domesticity.
after
bank's dead hand
slapped us
outta the place.

lines mark boundaries
scratched by gunship
cannon fire
crossed regardless by
their smoke .

preserved on haze made
horizon from concrete
ministries bunkering
a fissionable peace.

avant garde fighters
control as shoeless
fashionistas
brokering fear in a
'retro' style of blades
and system spooks.

working poor garb
in fake labels
preferring sim-culottes
to any daring
protests against
themselves.

we are all Benetton
and on message hating
colour or hating the
hating of colour.hungry
habits of the two tones
chimed by the 'we all bleed
the same' brigades.

shop the same, perhaps.

standing in queues behind
logos made of corporate
programming dependant
on the modern gunship
smoke territorying our
lives.

we are all under arms.

rise and fall. faintest of exhales
you are added to the invisible.
thus:
nothing remains of details
or the anger made hate. risible,

as I lie watching a twist of your hair
dancing in your freed dreams.

swiftly passes occluded light
when high currents shift.
not excluded, at night,
yet their volume drift.

not seeing your draught
he was wrapped in the eddy.
how i laughed
the gloom so steady.

too many dancers on stage
lit poorly for tryst parade

temples stand in places.

outsides
exalts
from the base to the
untouched firmament

inside
exhausts
ideologies
from lungs wetted
by the blood of saviours

the ground is moved
by worms
into mounds of it's castes

touch leeches tender send

consonant vowel consonant vowel

eager mind ear rounds the sounds

the beat felt feet

thump pause thump

if hand covers breast-bone

we are all stilled the same

now still the doubt of the press
from expectant crowd. chance
on sure steps to march one
direct to the crux of now

serendipity

door opens to the face

red traffic lights ...
in rear view mirror

bits rip into place
hit and click like
flickers of old film

gate flops
scene
gate open
scene

whirr
end of film

slapslapslapslapslap

gate strobes lit wall
spits white light and
hiss

Zen.

Mind zips to picks of times
spat black bitter to crack
wide the corral for Id

white noise

shattered reality confetti
uncertainty into notion
of solid silence

there are no voices or
punch points

filmic . ego watches
the flashes as if asleep

a twisted
fence
our place to
hide
galaxies.

tadpole and
black-eye
just two

on a paper
we that
night fold
and intern
names.

I am the
rainbow
fish.

I fly
from
the
ocean,
conquer
sky.

Of land or
sea
my promise.
a wish.

pax pacis

gently she pushes
in that shy way

"everything you had
has been taken
today"

pain is absent
in this flow

somethings 'tis
just to be let
go

patiently the
touched rested

stoics to be
truly tested

holding dear
to abate fear

faith

that wreaths
return
on
Styxs tidal water.

common senses once taught
flat Earth accepted thought

possibility of straight line
coming back to then define
circular transit
was deceit
heresy
lunacy

perception forced was destroyed
by a sailor royally deployed
to exploit sea trade
of dragons afraid
some returned
facts earned
world
round

followed many tribulations
persecution in inquisitions
round and round
the seat of heaven
Earth then Sun
Universe
begun
relative
subjective

in any case your senses
are instructing pensé
according to rules
that time makes fools
so (h+H)awking
ideas not
sound
Universe is flat
not round

lean ******* the lever
precise on flat

fulcrum a point
on Shiatsu chart

lines are the crack
you use to break

into the heart of
hurt. medicant.

your hands' instincts
the cure

analgesia amnesia antidote
to last night
stuck in throat

tattered pride resides
in your eyes
lost to me

vestments of vanity varnished
in sacrificed blood
now chemically numb

coming round to LED
light and message beep
reality of the deceipt

dust the dark with
product.
the ash of
forest fires

wood.
never so vital
as when the wet
tips rise
through the
dark mat.

a making of trees.

limbs made a
nest
a place of
passion
passages
gorged by fingers
and tongues
lingam taught
against swollen
cells.

falling trunks
felled beings
alight
all
night

something preposterous
to come across of us
heading for the sea

a pink diplodocus's
skipping home for tea

a dancefloor all blue
dancers shadowed white
process on a current
tuned by spotlight

mass .
that smack in the face
with a brick.

subjective accident
in a bubble

- God -
particles interact in a huge pool of
energy

physical
creative
sensitive

as input
-

makes weight
as a wave
dances in winds

singular and
'sin everywhere
where energy
flows

God cannot
fast or
fatten
else
the bubble bursts
and the brick
passes through
you.

the window
smashes into uncountable
nothings

rolling a tulip.
gone.
eyes soft. heads nod.

walls of alabaster layered cave
hazy bodies litter rave.

i am folded: foldin rizla blue
first a pocket by lick the glue.

toast some bensons
add in some resin.

filled and build over tube.
sweet trick, the petal, dude.

small tribe makes the ground
that the tulip travels around

deposited as a pose
she wrapped to
he

discarded in rags
flannelette under
polyester

fallen like leaves
from one
tree

i wonder lonely
with a frown
long faced pony
in a dressing gown.

some are curious
as to where to buy
something so spurious
for four legged guy.

i say to them "trot on".
donkeys,this time of day,
should be braying upon
their pews made of hay.

feeling a bit shagged,
from crossing the gorge,
to avoid the old nag
i have a pint in the george

taken by rough hands
makes me fearful
but wind whispers
me silent.
timbered in arms
tendered to lull
trembling heart

nearer a gentle
coolness drifts
on a wind
carrying bell charms
sweet flower bells
belladonna to lips

dappled in light
and death dreams
water in nose
and lungs
I fight the demons
and fight back
flight away from
black pearl

alone
half drowned
half reborn
I gather up my clothes
I gather up broken
pieces.
pieces that are
my
gathered shroud

Hard brittle lights.
Faked without heat.
Hurts eyes driving
home words. Finger
sharp pointed pixels.
crack sleep little.
cold and floored
glow of heat
calls

me giddy and on
gentle pads I secure
myself to a rapture of
rest and a heart beat
be love
be love
be love
to fall away again
under waxy light
slowly burnishing
my analogue world of
slumbers

shaken by distant call to rest

glare of harsh blue
white is softened by
day. heat lifts
and maintains
fight back through
bitter coffee.
digits are soft coloured
and in laundered whisper of
emotional thrill
as fortune and dreams
call out softly
let
us
g
o

moving and tripping gently to your side
my face oblique, sweetly set, decries.
direction set by pointing intention
if there's passion it's of my declension.

meekly set and paler than a daisy
defenseless some man incited tupour,lazy.
you are easily rolled by part made bold
absent lust . closed. resist ****** cold

barriers hold until scent comeliness
my gentle sincere words do espress
fluid accompaniment of hands
brought together applause in lands

where acorns ride on veiny rods
and lovers smother the others sobs

people cower
under a liberty
sky
sunken by a
war of fear.
lost and
counted in
innocent corpses.

shadows slumber as the sun
goes down oversized by a sky
made in a shimmering dusk.

beside me there is your heat.
suddenly sultry moist as the
days sweat cools on my skin.

you turn . orange light makes
lips' pinks ochre to a shade
covering pearls.

**** your eyes as they
read intention . you
arch and curl a lip slowly
to reveal blood coveting
ivory.


i am both drained to dust
and, dripping beads urging
to necklace with ivory and
pearls,
as
you finish the smile on my neck
and
complete the
dark.

careless rain
wipes away
dust

absent hands
leave garden
wild

poison air
deprives
life
youngest first

no washing that

let gentle kisses
change your shape.
smooth words
are but tender
tiny cuts unfelt
until you bathe.

let's bathe together.

you draw from a hot
salty spigot
determined that hurt
forms and is desire.
sculpture cuts away
there is noise and
loss.

cooling to blood.
I will enter water.
see I to have cut.
small bits of me
mix with you.

no pain.

the potter lifts
out of mud.
gentle fingers
persuade and
shape beauty
with utility .

no loss.

now, let's colour,
in a slow
hardening
over fire.

In lee of the Ash
'twould be me
hiding in trees.
bare arms held high.
raw from rubbing the bark.

breath a ragged whisper,
the language of dead leaves

lingnen umbrellas once shadow makers now of the dark

encased in abandoned shade,
stability is a fabled illusion

colours of autumn fade.
forms become skeleton.
dirt is fed.

earthen daydreams corrode,
fertile nightmares,
demons grow in place of daisies

their eyes are hungry in a barren place until the ash buds swell

dried petals melt to gravity,
possess my naked frame

under the low sun after dewy drapes lift.
green blessings distract

undulating bodies,
supplication of sweet release

'tis what demon desires and to have must part with pomegranate

the seeds of damnation,
lament dearest Persephone,
your cry shall reign all dominion

a Bentham call for the utility that the wood be of seasons

colors of autumn fade,
forms become skeleton,
hello death's wintry mistress

colours of spring wait.
Morbid redress

leaving hulled seed a heliotrope with skying ambition.
Brethren in tumultuous glory.

Bask eternal in tumultuous glory.

self indulgence the poet's
right
or plunder.

colliding emotions
into passages
set drifting off
flounder into
minds

and

canker in their own juices

until

they monster out
reborn in another .
alien eruption
howling of what loss?

fine, poet, to spew
into your mouth.
to purge.
swallow.

ruminate and then compose
Your self.

rise and fall under feathers warm exhales.

you are added to the invisible.

consequence nothing remains of details

that inflated the anger made hate risible.


as I lie limboed across the shared vapours

of moments past part making the next me.

so irrelevant now, flow of dark humors,

that we buoyed into and ground out to free


that dancing dream exalted by the hair

floating like gossamer without me there

Sun lazy roll
from lower limits
not so high

hurrying to perch
in fast fading daylight
thrush hour

seagull head
swivels around on van
parking warden

cars queue
in both directions
pedestrians cross

that move. response to
my eyes kissing you
across the room

tables long hurdles
legs ached to leap
to shrink distance

noise. I read your
lips wetting mine
in concert. blush

cheeks reddened
and turn fast
toward blue
EXIT

swiftly passes some grey occluded light
when temperature and high currents shift.
not excluded; that worried moon at night,
yet their voluminous nothings drift.


happenchance that such collisions can wreck
the fusion made dance of light and heat.
a silent complicity has no check
to balance this pirouette of deceit.


not seeing the empty left by your draught
he is all rapt in the swirling eddy.
trapped with me now giddy and, mad laughter
in the blooming gloom, casting shadows, steady.


we,too much like drab dancers on a stage,
lit tragically for such a tryst parade.

molasses with the stink of gangrene
blisters from the wound;
it will not run

foul slow swelling putrescence
of plasma and, past cells
can only be lanced

it will not run.

congealed crust of scab
and keratin strands
is shield for eyes
and, the point.

it will not run.

crushed fruits
ferments to wine
barrel makes flavours

as so, are we concocted,
and coopered by love

bitter sweet latex
kept pretext
that my hurt
it will divert
truth is
1st contact
made contract
writ n white ink
on blanched skin

a hand raised to cut out some of the glare. still only see glare. worry stalked my thoughts while hunger rattled on my ribs. Time being beaten out by the slap of tattered sail against the broken limb that should be stout skywards not right angled into the .... glare.

i am a fair sailor on a regular day. today i am a burnt out wreck foolishly adrift after capsize. ok foolhardy but who would not wish to be in the blue on such a day. a day 5 or 6 ago on a whim and gentle wind to gather me into nature. She has done with me now and I waft away into sleep.

There I am carried away from desperate thirst and pained imagined goodbyes to a place that seems cool and if not dark it is at least bare of violent light. I blink. I did, it hurt. All is grey apart from land-born angels pointing home.

flat grey sky
is hiding seagulls
with rain on wings

rain here by ransomed
drafts from warmer
continents

my space is chaffed
by the hidden soil
trailed from used
oceans

i, see

a stranded twirl
of stone pesce tail

still magic
despite miles
despite age
spites my eyes
spites vanity
bites
me

there. i am beguiled, so stand,
as i too wear into sand

when did you last
in gentle obsession
cast your mind
so the wind spoke.

it passes. miss it's
touch and a whole
world being shunned.
are you such a force.

self-important that whispers
in trees, whistles of alleys
to hollow to drown
the media holler.

same current though howls
could rip through a town
bring your world tumbling
down.

hark then or would you decry
the cruelty and misfortune
and wail curses at wind .
be quiet .

listen to the situations
it brings.

hidden high
a barrels' smoke drifts
hatred spills
on streets marched
white with black, is red

fibres line up:make rope
they cross for cloth
tall sheds:weave of rope
into a net
knitted holes
some much in
the in-between

while mourning.
gently the throb
of visceral flow
is reminder of
clocks.

pulse counts the
beats until
the bell is rung
calling the spirit
from it's case.

movement stops.
hands point two
and eleven.
dial painted.

one last turn of key .
in hope.
then questioning
if it really was
his time.

emptied limbs creak

slowly unburdened
there is no lifting
of palms

notes left of sweet
sensations
dances
fruit
habitations

move on the wind

washed over by glancing
clouds destroying
themselves

a slow tipping of one
place into another

me. a stop in the way.

within lost temperance
gloated at the soak being
soaked

joyless **** but sure captain
took to the bilge pumps
and purged.

water splashing off clammy
surface layered stale from
leaked toxins shut tight
under the run from
sky
to sea.

what did not stick, or
was imbibed
pooled around lifting
an oily sheen from the
ground.

imagining the dirt as blame
the breadth of broken
sky spoke
boozed baptism

wretch

scratches marr the mirror
rain rivers my window

so much is tangential
in my view.

my yearn is to know
truth
learned from fidelity

what substance have I
when straight ahead is rivered
and reflection scoures
me

Loop one or loop all.

standing in the crowd
of the heads bowed

traffic on roads
on pavement a
repeat of beats
and neat lines

another another
all the same
suicidally lame

sick of the roll
and fume
of humdrum

I roll down
alleys and
by ways to
sea shore

a hush a scree
of sea over shingle
waves roll in single
one after the other
undoing bothers

a lulling repeat
of sky; breath
and heartbeat

more of the same
to lighten mundane

red yellow blue saucers

in my honey bed.


haematoma proof

of the love you just bled.


sacrificed under arc in flight.

the sting of conquester's wing.


never did you scream but in

colours did sing


to your sisters heralded

Chloris in the dying chorus

Prose.
EXPLORE
WRITE
Poetry & Free Verse
Written by MR in portal Poetry & Free Verse
4 minutes ago
o p aque eye
milky eye . dead to light .

blinks away a hair

strand lands again

to frustrate

reflex flicks the
lid perfunctory
as ice melt

a refreshed sheen
for a glassy eye
a wave in air

the ice melts
there's a little
more liquid

substance shifts
unseen
drips drop

whorl and pool. pale

light circulate around

lamps to build a world

between

the black buildings


street streaked,blacker,
by tar macadam
are flavour made as lit
- whole oranges
and, modern blasts of blue
white fruits.


blobs both.


Old black thick oil
bitumen based rock.
lighter the other.
made of energy
bouncing into
eyes as a scene.


division is round
at edge of energy
and straight painted
line. demarcation:
my side your side
for vehicles and,
kiddies games.


by day this place is singularly lit

and shadows are directed

one way

but now under street-lights

the shadows play

ragged complexion nearly
distracts from his eyes
the staccato of his limbs
semaphores his battle with
demons

I urge him silently to shout them out

it shames me deeply
and my turn to blot
my skin weak.

like a human stutter the
crippling in him carried
him away

too slowly

crossing the road in looking
back my demons
play patacake on my  spine