Easy answers the ears can´t hear

Could I get an answer
One that justifies an hour long smile
Real answers with side effects of relief
I´d like one like that

No easy answers
We build bridges between day and night
brick by brick each hour
Constructions away from our nature

Avoiding the rivers that may clean us
The valleys that might teach us
How much of our labour is invain?
Easy answers artificial flowers, slogans and narcotics

In silence some still listen
To how complex questions ould be solved in simplicity
But those loud forcefed solution are trends
that sell and swell a market injecting the paying ego with
temporary certainty

Oh no easy answer, diagnosis or instruction
Linger with me briefly all sure of yourselves between creation and oblivion
No easy answer the ear can hear without difficulty
it´s mystery we live on.

Two comrades

The loud and red political theatre
The speech that bored the two boys
they resembled the true instigators of the movement
Comrades that would serve as body doubles for sure

They took their bikes and rode away
until they were stopped by the dynasy´s hired help
Who bet them half to death
But before they could...

Fortunately the rest of the young people
also bored by the speeches followed close behind
The hired help was massacred
laced with the recent rhetoric that kicked out of them

The heroes of the movement didn´t know how compelling
 to make their future speeches
Old ignorant farmhands gazed vacantly into the local lakes midday reflection
Sun shining off it like brainwash.

Defining evil is like writing a recipe

Life indoors

The floorboards creaked
The restless heart croaked
There was a basement underneath
Fine and cushioned for the broken

T.v´s and stables
Doctrines for the young
Out of town guest who play
"I love what you´ve done to the place" like clowns

Afterall what is a life indoors really worth?

Forgotten passion

Forgotten passion breathes down
My neck crimson flavours
Spice in the sound of it´s respiration
It´s calm insistance and inevitable existance

Forgotten passion
Unto where bubbles of bitterness have burst
Hopes toward union have stuck firmly
as bugs onto the windshield
of a joyriding vehicle of years

I toast to friendships with finely dressed optimism
how overly proud we can all be at a party
In midboast to having such a blind yet cheery chum
Forgotten passion deprives the memory

Blind and deaf to the scars that scream and dance
pessimism and hopelessness cackle over strong drinks
 in their conveniently dark designated corner
Ah forgotten passion regret would lie dead in it´s stead

Passion that built cities inside memories
That love would populate
That love would light and radiate
Forgetting such a thing shortchanges true living

Like mere breaths

poetry I come to you again
My bastion in words
subtle spells
poetry my sheer escape

The mind always infantile
rhyme as it´s crude rattle
it´s tangled slithering snake
letters revolve in the chaos

In the absense of pen to paper
a sharp need awakens
poetry oh poetry i write you
like mere breaths I take

Protests ahead

The dent in the man´s head
rubber bullet
the smoke and spray
blinding sting

The swing of the flag sting
the bloodied head
screaming shouting manifesting into
booming into being

The protestor
outrage and addrenaline
twisting into
confronting no longer complacent

Raging streets

Raging streets

Flags banners and placards
The people hit the streets
Marching and chanting hard
Everyday repeat

Tear gas and rubber bullets
pepper spray and nightsticks
police repression won´t dull it
The timebomb has ticked

Through loud voices anger and fear
appeal for an honest government
Division is aroused here and there
as the injured are taken off the front

Courageous Brazilians keep up the fight
Political priviledge no longer a right
Continue your quest for a better country
This worthy protest this real plight

Woman scourned

Infected woman

She walked into the bar
Disease ridden she had aids and a few other STDs.
All she wanted was a glass of rum to take the pain away
and struggle on into the cold and lonely night.
She had no money, she had had an abortion earlier that week
making it her 3rd. Her hands trembled and her voice wavered as she
demanded a rum.
One of the men drinking there felt sorry and gave her some beer
but the barkeeper was furious and had gone out back to find a bucket
of trash covered in old beer that had been tipped in there after the
cans were damaged when they were transported.

The woman had turned to gloat amongst the men drinking, that she had indeed conned someone into giving her something to drink even if it was only beer.
One of the men warned her that the barman had gone to fetch a very ugly suprise
and it would be prudent for her to take leave.
She put down the plastic cup they had given her and turned for the door
it was too late the barman tipped the bucket over her head the smell was ghastly
and even though the woman reeked to high heaven before she´d entered the bar it really was nothing in comparison to what she had on her now!
She screamed a scream that´s tone was heard by none of the men before.
One that almost opened a screen on the wall showing them that hell did exist
and that the very scream ushered their souls to follow hers into it headfirst.

The woman´s life had been hell, she had suffered at the hands of many men when she was still a child. She´d spent her youth drunk or heavily stoned on all types of poison. A few years ago she was still making enough money to support her various habits by hooking, but as her addictions got the better of her so the clientele dropped down a class taking less care in their hygiene and thus she was infected with aids.
Hell was her life and when she screamed that night so loudly and horiffically some of the men present couldn´t hold their urine.

She was barely twenty five but she walked like an eighty year old, scorned and rejected she made her way out of the bar wet with scum and stinking, the cold night made it even worse. She fell down on the curbside and begged for a few hours making enough change to buy herself a small bottle of grog.
The eyes of the people who looked at her stung her aswell, she was numb she didn´t want to be reminded of how gone she was.
She didn´t want to know that she was like some gaping hole in the pavement to be avoided. In her child like brain all she wanted was to be hugged by someone who didn´t want to hurt or abuse her. Destiny had other plans as many future saturday nights ended the same way for her infact years would go by and all she would ever get out of people was sympathy or abhorrence. When I saw her the night she was thrown from the bar I couldn´t help but be curious to how a human being could deal with so much pain.

Way she wept

Legs crossed
tears dropped
Without a pallet fifty shades of blame
The big picture punctured and ripped

She wept with different poisons in the heart
Pure sadness would cleanse her
Though she wouldn´t be cleansed nor cleaned
Sudden injustice for the pain occured

Hair down over the red cheeks of her face
Regret had grown into a beast
One no love could conquer
One that would bite her with jagged hungry teeth

The wet face squares up accusing
Eyes locking onto the sympathetic listener
Rage and tears roll ears refusing
Justifying fault by every man who kissed her

The way she wept
lines of water stuck her hair to her face
No handkerchief just sighs and whines
her true and bitter piece of personal disgrace

Fleeting shoreline

 Fleeting shoreline

The sea and the shore
So close never apart
the overhanging slat tolerant vegetation
The jungles beyond

The hopes and the dreams that the tide could wash in
Inside a house orange light

A table a plan square ideas
Out into the sun and down a path
layed there a few years back
Down to the shore

Night appealed the spear diver dives
The milky moonlight guides the point
Azure and pearly no fish
Back to shore for the night

Hair is seaweed
Vines in the jungles beyond
Sleep may never find us
If we keep looking Into eachothers eyes

The dying animal a piece of bitterness
Soon to be gone forever
So fresh feelings may come forth as a spring
A water source for a new era

Fleeting moments as these are
Feed the dreams of hopers
of forgivers whose faith bares wounds
yet in a short time heals from the inside out

The shoreline always moving
adapting like us
Changing the land
Shaping the world and it´s endless swimming pool

A poet I may seem

A poet I may seem

Tell a poet with an idea
who has an idea kind´o like
tears that tear down cheeks mere cheeks
like leaks that sneak after charm wallops sleeps

A poet like me totalmind free
No remaining no fleeing letting the body
purely be
 each braincell a flower
for our grand life´s bee

a poet whose putting words
on screens
on people, on dreams
letter by letter like a river
A poet I seem flowing through perception
noone owns reality

Sixty with his hat backwards

Outside the bar
Still had his teeth but his youth was out out of reach though
second beer of the day check again falling hair of grey wise know?
humble there distant stare what´s life but dulling the scare
plastic chair no interruption sixty with the hat backwards just enough or...
too much

Sneakers decade in the wearing pointing out to the pillow curbs
Soon to be vomit stained like yellow rain before the last draw on local herb
Smile awakes as the hangover subsides makes its way on to his face
His dainty trance soon to be disturbed by an open mouth full of unnecessary words

The jaw rocks back and forth now with jibber jabber
 twenty years of the same boasts and blather
A condescending laugh and fat greedy bladder
 and his happy marriage to the words "it doesn´t matter"

Some would deride the old goat
Claim the scruffy mess as without worth
Yet the man could joke whiskey soaked laughter´d surely burst
With humour and a whim for high spirits he was cursed

Stuck up

She used to call herself a princess
it´s getting old oh so old this mess
She used to lead men into declaration
now the words won´t melt the ice

She´d lean on a bench and state the obvious
she´d laugh half ironically in her announcing of a full gone conclusion
A full blown slice of her fancy illusions
A popular idea for walking dolls as ruses

She got herself an unoriginal tatoo
One that clichés with the tribal lines
Dancing shoes on, social lives
provocative sly grin easy come easy lie

So before you state the obvious
remember to shut up
Try to find your own blindspot
it´s there where you´re stuck up.

Long distance flirt

That hundred metre smile got someone
Favourable glaring toward my lazy gaze
Car door slams off she drives
Turn of the head and wandering eyes

Hundred metre smile chased me
all the way to the supermarket
I´ve got to eat
She parked well out of the way and hid

Atleast she went home after staring
she got to look at me
I´ve got to go home and make a sandwich
Long distance flirting makes me hungry

Each metre between our eyes
didn´t seem to matter
We couldn´t hear each other sigh
as the space between us got fatter

Broken penguins

Broken penguins

We climbed that fained ladder
The one that drives up toward heaven
Curiosity made our grip certain
A friend jumped off and sense was lost

Down he went four hundred metres
Into a deep blue pool comfortably cold
The splash was quickly absorbed by the moving shapes in the water
Penguins dirty penguins

They attached themselves to him
as he submerged
we pulled the penguins off of him
Penguins with plastic straw like bones

Houses and buildings swayed in the wind
frogs on the margin of the pool burped fire
changing colour and shape
The broken penguins layed scattered about

We needed to organize our things
get back on the road as the sun went down
The mayor of the town was Salvador Dali
Curfew would be enforced

Tangelo

So you´ve found orange stains under your fingernails
Peels discarded
drops of juice on the table
a slight zing subsiding from the lips

Remember when you started peeling it
 how anticipation hung
like the cottony short threads of internal skin
The subtle rip and the ease of the skin as it seperated

You were so young
 time went by
 fingernails grew
The fruit was ripe

Now the inner fruit is naked
Pick out a segment and break it between your teeth
The juice fuses with the saliva in your mouth
Though the pip distracts you from the sweetness

You knew little
events passed like harvests
Your eyes both opened and squinted
Even fruit has it´s stones

Finish the last segment
Discard the skin
Throw the pips on some heap of earth
Maybe one of them will sprout a tangelo tree

A game for a wanderer

Open evening small bars become it
cobblestone hills
The accent on the wind toward ears
Coolness and cheap lighting

The cue makes colours roll
beer spilt and cursing and laughing
Patrons boast and relate
Friends convince eachother of the next round

Jokes are thrown from one side of the table
to the other
Dissappointment shrinks
Bellowing sinks denial the last ball dissapears

Another coin goes in the slot
Glory in bottles and cans whoas and wows
The sharp eye softens
four percent catches up

Tips are chalked and delivered
sometimes finding the right point on the ball
Trajectory a steady interest for the inibriated
The paradox that they drink with no attention to the flavour

Turning monkeys

Change someone
Something
An ape
The animal in yourself

Civilize
make it hygenic
Open logic
build expectations

Trials are sterile
the monkey is virile
The tests relieve
Theories comfort

It bites and scratches
No longer recognizing
The jungles far off
concrete is it´s scenery

Must you tame the world?
Are you validated
by rehabilitating the wild
Or are you just smart soap?

Nowhere for a knife?

The knife under the bed
It rests
it doesn´t shift from it´s position
It really stays sharp

It will be applied one day
Into some aggressive cranium
The knife it comforts me hiding there
as night greets

dusk retreats
thieves conspire
birds desist their tweets
The ugly shine
 the slither of it represented
introduced
down it can come
through the boasting mind
I hold it humbly
Under the bed it bides
waiting like an angry child
grey and half rusted

toward flesh it winks
toward hands it breathes
Bloody floors and never agains
will be expressed caprichiously

Basketball clown phantom

You´re on t.v
the last night of your life
The spirit you boast is now a basketball
being bounced by a clown phantom

Bed spins
You become him
See yourself attemtping sleep
4 am and the game has begun

The bed spins and the phantom lurks
Your face pokes out and the phantom hits it
you struggle and turn searching for the comfort
that the night won´t provide

You´re on t.v
how about dying in your sleep
as the phantom plays basketball with your soul
Dawn is nearing like pity

You´ll be half traumatized
half warped
halfway falling out of your bed
Th phantom stirs you wake

The sum total

The sum total of your lifetime fits into what sort of container?
It´s a thought that will no doubt be squeezed into the observations you carry with you
to answer the stupid question

The sum total of your life
Blug

stratosphere tax
foreatey

Anti limbo pull
gulb yetaerof

Prison for children

Behind bars at sixteen
Hands hold him down
The land holds him down
Back on the streets full indifference and rage

Taught petty crime to improvise
A filthy existance lower echeleon life
Sent to the big house no education
Violent crime his future wife

Terror in the shops he robs
shaking customers lie in fright
Maiming and killing
Promoting a crazy life

No turning back the time
A drug deal goes bad
Knives slicing bullets flying
No funeral for the dead lad.

Some unknown treasure

Some windmills are built in the wrong areas
Fields where the Wind no longer blows
Some expected person just never appears
Shield the feeling be the life raft in the undertow

Some unknown treasure would open my hands and eyes
Closed I Know my sleep the taste of dormant months
Some unknown treasure would quell frustrated sighs
Someone elses treasure lost and violently dumped

Some holes are dug to keep such treasure safe
Loose surplus dirt leaves a mound often fertile
Soft weeds creep over it a soft protective lace
The treasure is under an overgrown pile

Finding wind in the windless meadow
Why for the windmill with a mouth such words would scourge
Finding a chest empty no gold or blood to flow
I would like to give wind and jewels but only have I words

Harmonic Paul

Put another lovesong together
write a piece about the deep feeling
Leave wist on the whistle
Take us to that deep blue where the heart is as lost as out poet souls are

Yes Paul sing us into revival make the world see us all
we dirty poets that seldom are seen beyond the drape´s shadow
No redemption for us sir for we replace god in shaping the world with words
and he is not so forgiving to those like we who´d dare

Yes those like we that would light dark hearts by recognizing the mapping out of them
That would confront the sinister and never cower
Understanding the adventure ended and the crater after the bomb blast that was our lives
Should we continue on forthright with rhyme and verse when society bottles scorn for it

Yes harmonic Paul you shall write on and block words in the shutting door
So we don´t all suffocate between internet gimics and overindulgent egos
Write a poem of love and give birth to yet another sentiment within someone
As rebel poets our work must be hated to be loved let me nicely verse it vice versa

Write a poem of lonliness for we writers are forever alone
Our lonliness builds and never subsides the only addrenaline we can boast of
Is between the lines with cacophony rollercoasters
Yes let them harp on about the softness without them seeing our steel

Those dark holes that consume us in dreams polluted with monsters and spirits
They know not how we combat, they know nothing of the thoughts we face
To be a poet is to see through with steel in our eye and ink in our pens
The reckoning resolve of ruthless rhyme armoured by our illiteration

To the joke making mind

To the joke making mind

Say the crux of falling from grace
was a cup of pure self pity
before he went to be I warned him
Love hides in big cities

Another punchline came on like a headache
couldn´t form the joke though
So I repeated it for humours sake
Better to laugh i would know

The mind comes to terms with itself
Laughter bursts out bless the balanced ridiculous
To the mechanical of mind, finding health
is keeping those thoughts simple and swell

To the squirting brain it´s all the same
Machines and energy the flat call sane

The last clutch

Words are spoken with a rattle snakes tail
serpent sentences the phrases slither
Close those lips so poison doesn´t spray
Loose cobra her mouth has nothing good to say

Assuming the treatment of a queen
The servants back has broken
The two squires in between
are in her grief soaken

Nothing to give
Though the snake finds a way to request
finds a way to get a favour
The scales and tears and all of her fears

Leverage a venemous beverage
Nothing more will be lifted from me
The hand closes as this poem is written
The last clutch will be a wrist bitten

On the way home

But on the way home

Voyage through the blues
Plastic and so
through the day, destination afternoon
destination get there soon

Through the vendor streets
and between palms over the industrial humps
Up the steep suburban slump
and down to the long alligator

houses for teeth
sunny visions
Voyage to the end
were not many get to

Some cul de sac unknown
a solitary shop where you can repair your baggage
a guesthouse where you´ll stay one eternity
A door opens a child´s smile

Cure to procure

What ends you well
kills your sickness but kills you too
No subtle remedy
No great cure but a kamikaze solution

What ends you not at all
Though kills your ailments through
Your body enemy
A great cure to the deadlyfuzzy life exclusion

What ends you do tell
So we can quickly heal you
The answer will be sent to me
To postpone your eventual health´s execution

Glory or death to the gladiator

Empire´s toys come out to bleed
Metal masks that hold the sun´s immortal fire
Helmets that reflect it into the audience´s greedy eyes
Shin guards making their march look animal like

The slave makes his ascent to percieved glory
months and years of training
Turning the flesh into muscle and vein
Dust from dawn to dusk

Blades meet over the sand beneath
chiming and sparking between grit teeth
Heavy hammers fall denting shields or heads with force
Trumpets sound as a new champion stands over the corpses

The empire´s new toy a symbol
Spectator´s sport for the masses to enjoy
Armed slaves and their gory stories
Under sun and sweat and illusions of glory