green covered in brown

a tease wears her wooden dress

swelling in sun

disappearing me

into grey veil carrying birds

inland to roost

strawberry field
so many tiny hearts
touching dirt

caught you
in the sky today
a smudge of mirror

I am lit by munlight

nothing but empty vessels
sounding of each other

clash of will and ideology
would bring progress

it is their hollowness that
makes the volume.

made from paper promises
used to secure debt.

written off against the bribe
taken to represent
desire of blind stocks.

not the wants of people.

the noise is with the monster
muscled by limited liability
and beau-tied by advertorial

a Victor lost his life to a monster.
we fellows, as corps. are larger
than states and, nations now are
subject under law to them, will be
consumed by

what we've bought.

her tears run
round reddened eyes
past pink lines

ink marks it's paper
to tell a story

dancing feet of
a tiger
tapped explanation
to fretful sort.

that joy cannot be
bound, owned or
traded for misery.

it waved a faintly
striped tail
and stepped out
on someone else's
tune.

Grrrrrr

urban air
poisoned with oil from
refined war

fear or shame that
makes the mask wearer

it is in the system code
give a **** : best I did
was reboot the core
in the program, man

not a virus or hacked control
'cause I am my need disease
big system stream
in the program, man

kinking with craze for energy
self sourced electricity.
warning lights and crashes
in the program, man

flash amber glows lit my kin
flagging errors on lines
of code need syntax
in the program, man

habit loop IF, THEN
we recall and a script is
mine for some steps
in the program, man

hurling stones
from the shore
at something that
was never
there before

it's making from
our collision
that sparked the heat
and giddy
confusion

though we spent
time and ourselves
taking dreams
down from dusty
shelves

love remains the arc
of the journey not in
the sinking when you
hurt me

dawn spits colour
there , a mother cleans
her new borns

skins are thinner
than ideology

bones cannot
bare hate

eyes cannot
un-see

nothing corporeal
can fight fear

that war is lost

ambling along in no particular style.
my eyes caught sight of clouds
stretched thin and, think to defile,
to myself state, too proud,

that i have seen the fingerprint
of God and I am the paper
he has pressed his ink
upon. evidence: should pauper

prince, beast or field
by his hand ever be killed.

he muttered and stuttered
words all a clutter

by his side the prize
of his eyes

finally got round
to "I do"

i hear my hurt
from the inside
wailing and weeping
on the outside
suffering splits me
so that sound
escapes

there is miasma outside.
in here is full of misery.

i am going to open the window.

will there be a current?

watching the rolling, noisy, salty surf
running in fast, halting and in reverse
here and partly of the revolving Earth.
thoughts began to challenge and to curse

the simple it's physically notion
just water following rules to make foam.
even consider a whole teeming ocean
with sky above so life settles and roams

still no. that in it, round it and, all known
are much more than with senses we see.
read. these words by that sea are sown.
hence ,all in it and, those that sense it be

connected by the benign dependence
of coincidence in circumstance.