The prehistoric tourist

 The river had gigantic fish
prehistoric and tattered
Sunshine for the summer
emptiness for the winter

The tourist guide
was a tourist yesterday
Lost in a mountain farm
One day later pseudo expert

searching for memories in the river
Moments that made sense
Leisure always as strange and bitter
as ocupation

running back to the river for sanity
The constant steady flow of water
calming nerves and trauma
Working them into place

That light brown clay riverbed
looked edible from the margin
like many illusions that build enticing imaginings
That amount to dirt

That others can form jokes and derision of
flowing them out as completely pathetic as they are
waiting to be rectified under some flashflood
like I could push a button

diamond like reflections on the surface
so pellucid as if touched by a divine realm
Your own childish heaven notion
a chemical belief

Tourism on the face of the earth
cave-dwelling communities
In love with the state of their own crude exchanges
all efforts to perpetuate their hierarchical cyclic monotony

Vision behind blindness

 the mannequin honoured
They built him in soft marble
Hollow but sturdy
eyes all washed out

Robotic legs racing as if he was still alive
He didn't see me as I drove by
His eyes couldn't focus
Because they were empty

He was a statue 
He was a miracle
He gave me hope muscle and will
a divine example for a lost kid

His expectations
mostly met in this life
grinning up
leaving the details behind

As he always would
Racing through life
a fast burning joint
Bloodshot eyes

The empty gut
chases the prey down
Any how will do
The heart fills the gut and eyes

To answer the why of existence
often blind energy
though sometimes
the sacred architect

The lost river

 The riverbed
came all the way up to the bank
a host of wet animals lost and seeking
The train tracks along it, it's rusty clothes

Alien creatures washed up
Sent well dressed anxious beings
rushing into their wagons
thoughtless and relieved

The railway station
That calls the living and the dead
So that they may celebrate the days once lived together
That sacred overlap in existance

The missed opportunity
To get a feel for that unknown rapport
The person in the person
a conversation of raw spirit

The exchange like a train
Dragging along the tracks above the torrent below
The speculation on the scenery distracts us
from knowing whom we truly are

Questions the cowardly heart
disallows you from asking
A heart more like a carriage
The rails keeping your journey mundane

With no view of the river inside you

Via cerebral canis

 The dog ate brains
I'm not sure if it made him any smarter
Was that the purpose of it
roads seemed to narrow

Long trunks tapered along the highway
until they scratched the cars
That were attempting to traverse
Like a birth

That dog looked up
His bowl quite full of brains
The expressions of the dog's face
like a timid teen

Brainstorming an excuse to get out of his homework
sloppy obligation a literal intelligence muck
the soup of experience index
competing with the handed down smarts

Dogs take most things at face value
unless there's food involved

The sunlight of existance

 Hair and skin the same tone
the sun a roof, a road, a throne
A pasture over hoof
this light flows, a precious stone

A fine piece of earth
where something might grow
Are we the source or the relection of it
An eternal destruction that provides endless creation

hope and light inseperable
This little grain of the galaxy
A fine few spheres
where something might grow

The mind veins 
active under an ultraviolet sun

That street home feel

 the oil could be seen in the mud
The accident was given all appropriate environmental factors
Crops were randomly placed and planted
The lost school as much in the mind as in the street

Long sun cooked streets the lengths of which
Could be walked tot he same rhythm of the secret clock of destiny
Each tick of the watch

The old cinema

 In the old building connected to the school, two young teachers curiously broke in to identify the light they could see through an internal window. The came upon a long corridor whach at the end of they could see an image on a large screen.
This was an old cinema. shut down decades ago.
But here they were these two colleagues, who instead of going to the pub with the other teachers had decided to break in.
Tom and James crept along the old wooden planked corridor, when they got into the cinema room itself they saw orange curdling lights on the screen swerving into a circular kaleidoscope. Tom pointed up to the projector room, they could see through the window. There was noone there manning it.
Out of fright or uncertainty both friends decided to exit. The eery feeling of the cinema, the lights. The soft flicking sound of film feeding into the projector. Something that begged answers to.
 

The grand foodchain hall

 Dropped my bag and books
obsessed with material possessions
shame and panic what a flavor
colleagues neurotic

Long dark wooden halls
As if our world was inside
the insane grains of wood our meadows
obligations to others our sky bearing down on us

James the ginger playing pranks on me
Almost conjuring a shape of a smile
When a hundred would have spilled laughter
slaughtered deer guts planks red dried

Into his hair


Dropped my bag and books
Appeared afront the committee with nothing
They'd judge me naked
One thousand faults

a small vat of mercy
sitting empty up at the bar
wig balanced frown well traced
Ugly hope

Another joke drilled into the mind
by a devlish insecurity
who merged the creeks of anxiety
To get one horrid torrent

Slaughtered deer guts
keeps the cycle voluptuous
For the next generation
A balance the human smile can fatten on

Neighbor loves wicca

 She beats the wall at 3am
she communes with ghosts
As the community sleeps
She checks the recipes for a hundred curses

Those beat against the wall
To escape her cycle of unwell power
brewing up like a disease's instinct
Developing her spell

A thousand spirits line up 
all rusty and shameless
grinning out of a broken streetlight
Powerless until they bind with her magic

Triumphant democracy

 Welcome Mr Star spangled
your soul walks through these walls and floors
A smokey cycle 
smile economy

Let me check up on Bessemer
He seems pretty uninterested
Must have been the beard
Not hetero-genius by far

You looked across the board
A geopolitical sniper
bag yourself a sweet monopoly
rivers of steel

Check up on Frick
Pinkerton mother
welcome Andy
The past is such a shoddy bank

Grudges dolled out
by crooked human spirit
none of them can be straightened out
ingot ghosts accumulate

Yet the demand has slumped
The brick work stained carbon black
The brick contains the illiterate labourer
fending for his humble self

The brick clicks and cracks under pressure
forming a smile
an economic need
A new venture to dominate the world with

Dunfermline foreign to the touch and taste
even if it was just to upstage a few local lords and ladies
Get the coach on the high street
humble pie is delicious in someone elses mouth

To take the reigns of a meaningless carriage
and whisper it's horses
Line the land with rail
Then run to charity as an overfed toddler does to breast

Kaikora nightmare

 I crashed just out of Kaikora
A place later to be destroyed by great earthquakes
I fell asleep and created a trauma
That would last me to my current day

those roads seemed endless
curve after curve
It was nearing 6am
morning punching in the face

The barrier I busted
Break pedal floored
Losing my life if just a second late
ironically just before a tunnel

One of many
That followed each nauseous curve
into a darkness
and a rocky thickness

So rough ghosts migh clutch on
and drop into a car a mid a family fight
or a lonesome driver such as I
destined to crash and get stuck 

In small town where the frost
was given an all day pass
The salt air and cold ganged up
Unwelcome was the feeling

And the sarcastic smirk of the mechanic
subtle metallic clank medievil like
The tussock leather like
and other plants thick frosty foliage

Here the rich and idealistic come to watch the whales
tourist guides are motivation in short sharp bursts
Hiking boots with colored laces
weathered grins stuck upward

Tatoos and bragging until the surface wood of the town houses
are varnished by it all, almost protecting it from the salt
but not really

Because it's what eats you from the inside that destroys you

Not in school

 my family pond
The fish swam away 
the sun through mud
the pond becoming empty

Hungry dog
Lets call it the ambition creature
Tripped the fish out of it's natural surroundings
chasing the poor thing over ground

Over a career
over relationships
over homes
then conveniently back into some lake

The fish never ran out of oxygen
The dog seemed more tired

Your fishy soul to stretch a metaphor crudely

Hell is the consumer mind

 the meaningless mess
clinging to itself
greedily accumulating
every species of contorted confusion

you lunge toward the broom
it droops into a question mark
laughter for walls
jokes for ceilings

A non existant floor accumulating meaningless material
bipedal hobbyists flaunt and then dump
Whim the plump cherry
The cake itself sewage scrapings

the brain attempts to make sense
every attempt hallucinogenic
One settles for the sea of disorder
the concrete rotting semblences of a city

Rather than the hell ride of ventured logic
the faint taste of oblivion hot on the tongue

The mystic mouth

stationary jaw
ornamental
between lifes excitement
and boredom

Thoughtful teeth
hours of light
smile at it
cloud soon arrives

Imagine
A motionless you
No wheels or limbs
Just a platter

Served to the world
by a grinning mystery

Keep that heart beating
even though the meal has started
The salt falls like sands of time
Death a sauce

Kiss spice
Lift want

served to the world
digested by the multitudes
In an attempt to sustain
a good few billion lips

flavoured words
stray tongue imprisoned now

Mind for glitter mendacity

 Appearances and illusions 
the crust of you for popularity's sake
the brand and make
Privilege aches  

Doll like flashy and bringy
and havy and lucky
debt for the launch pic starboard picky
Bay of azure stained with advertising

seven figures buy an identity full of guile
An exciting resort liked and shared profile
The essence of a slogan dear
bringy havy blingy

A drop you squashed in school
Competition game useful social tool
executed the authentic will to dream and dare 
Each narrative pays a tax to please the ears
of your sacred peer and family fears 

Verily Tis' a Neutral GOD

 I breathed a sigh of relief
woke to find that neutral god at the foot of my bed

praying there as if mocking
whispers in sounds you could eat and sustain yourself on

That God so neutral
that came through morning light

Out of some outlandish void
A personal transporting window

The light was not of the sun
But that neutral god

Half way through a recipe
That was the human race

I breathed a sigh of relief
Permission given to me

By every middle or means
Journey determined

Each step given its polishing and blessing
It's very own sanction of approval

After all these years
Many fathers and mothers ago

Here I find god praying at the edge of the bed
So neutral, so many of you arctic or antarctic

But the equator is warm
the dark night frozen

This room is light
This path is blessed
The beauty of real life
subtract illusion and there God sits with you

Praying for you to wake
Not into the woke
But into the balance
The earth eats equilibrium

Our feasts depend on it
So slaughter the extreme
slaughter the extreme
slaughter the extreme
inside your self

Friction of the compete

 The king trainer
doing situps over the edge of a skyscraper
clouds hitting his head
shocking the crowd

drumming up the euphoric exhibitionism
the dying cycle of a competition
The sun and spotlight
Wanting to outdo each other

In the forest one tree outgrows the others
canopy shading the rest of them
the seasons shift
But the main tree takes the light space and nutrients

Only the frosts to thaw
with the heat of glory

Feeding the world

 Food is for that empty stomach
The world a stomach 
money if for that empty wallet
The world a wallet

The handshake waits
This world longs for friendship

Longs for heat in winter
cool in summer

Moderate times 
a sense of love amid insanity

a quality a safety that doesn't constrict
A judgement that feels like a hug

A slice of God topped with mango and mint
that might feed us for a millenia

Pre-cattle teen

 Young person looks at their existence 
can't conjure a sparkin this instance
Spends a few months in painful contemplation
conjures a fireball of confused frustration

Knowing they exists yet nor for what or why
herded toward some career
stimulated by lights action and music
One of those long anecdotes

Where they are a word not even a line
Let a lone a bold paragraph
Even the butts of jokes claim importance
Inside the absurd and hilarious

They conjure the influence of humourous rapport
And certain masses hammer the ground with hungry hooves
To laugh when the traffic lights change
And to clap when the traffic lights change

So have mercy on that lost teen
The one whose spirit seems to vibrate
pendulum like at hyper speed
a ridiculous vibration that only encourages perplexity

Frog life

 A soggy existence
The frog contemplates
Meditating on top some wet foliage
Chin and chest inflating and deflating each breath

eyes and body motionless
feeling the humidity from the muddy pond
as the hot day encroaches down from the sky
heating the land 

One slimey blink
The ridge of the frogs eye twitches
Some semblance of conclusion has splashed
Into his tiny green mind

He plops headlong into the milky expanse
Swimming in the direction
Of the incessant summer croaking

Barry's port a potty

 Barry pepper's son slipped off the mattress
Barry familiar and his son they built a life box
Son whined and bleeted
clean eyes yet a frumpy load of dirty clothes waiting to be washed

The life box was for hiding inconvenient truths
shameful past events 
unmentionable regret
decorated outward soiled and decomposing from within

Barry pepper at the dock confrontation
He the stomach his son the ass
All tied up intestine discord
Bacterial wipes kill the eyes bacteria and blind the boy for good

The son all hyped up on his righteous theories
Old Barry in an ocean of grey
All hush hush emotions quashed
Surgeons of delirious masochism

Like a mobile toilet 
to the brim with grey water
Hauling that around on life's long roads
as if it had some kind of value

Those guys from the pines

 The curitiba couple were playing piggyback
In a hotel downtown Sao Paulo
Sweating out their day glare
On the top floor of that building

Vanity and wisdom enjoyed each other's company
enjoying the distinct contrasts in their own routines
attempting to find where the ropes attached to intentions
The bedrock to quirky beliefs and idiosyncracy

In a society that overtly shunned
They were here in this lightless room
Heated and exhaused from too much loving
Sitting and baking as if inside an oven

Few guarantees are given in a life such as this
Paper only reflects reality in art