Faint immiscibility

 that drop of oil falls and blends and spreads across the surface of my life
tiny pieces of a unit pulled out into a thousand parts differing in size and roundness
impacting my brain as I attempt to count each little one wishing them back into the drop
The process is not reversible in this cup of water in this cup of life

The drop of chaos drops into your daily routine forcing it's impositions upon the feel
upon the morning and afternoon adding too much sugar not quite enough
satisfaction sits somewhere in the brain and the gut like a loose smooth God
waiting for your offerings so open curtains and serve yourself from this day

The drop of oil that splashes into the glass and ruins your drink
separating like a big bang escaping the cotton to absorb it
leaving every aspect of life uncontrollably random
unprocessed and raw not consumable

That drop of chaos in the explosion
mortar breaking the shopfronts and layered streetsigns
daily life sends us as lame beggers brainwashed to seek relief
Brainwashed to seek control even as it's out of our hands 

I drank through it

 The alcohol sat in my stomach and it was acceptable
the walk home was a bruise and sweaty nightmare
vomiting and remembering an insult from the night at the pub
the grass treated me as foreign and the moon smiled sarcastically

pavement gave me a wink streetlight was a good listener
hangover would linger for the horrid next morning
deepening those pangs of desperation and empty meaninglessness
slowly losers made their way back to the glass

filling it up with excuses a well rounded self deception
a sabotage vintage early 2000s
back into the thick and happy state
health'll get the bill

I continued that drunk weekend existence
intoxicated somewhere awaiting the next drink
my identity fragile outside of the jovial mask
throwing vulgar and humor into piss puddles

unrecognisable feigning charming

liquid to gas

Becoming the swamp mists here in  the 1970s
surging up as a thousand cobras from the murky waters
the thick moist vegetation there was something real
yet unseen by the human eye

Crawling through the rice fields before dawn
consuming stray cattle and small mammals
The under sheer merciless moonlight
The ritual of the transformation continued

Wings formed and long talons
Taking flight and devouring night buzzards
freezing in those heights kilometers high
Becoming the night mists here in the 2030s

The formulas of certainty

 I couldn't doubt my own mind
A drop of methylene blue dispersing
on the surface of the aquarium water
soothes I wouldn't doubt it

the painkillers that went down in the torrent
glass passing lips and flooding mouth and throat
seek solid states of mind between the events
those formulas that destroy equilibriums

Those imaginary ones we can't hold
betraying us as they make their way blooming
into bright prolific untruths leading us further
misleading us with fragrance and beauty

so deep now I wouldn't doubt it
Under your delicate skin
a drop of me dispersing
On your surfaces

the opiates that dove down into you
resurfacing in vibrating euphoria
refusing to play that game of control
formulas of behaviour that ensure balance

In each phase of loving the cave mind

 Deep in the cavern mind
something hovers inside clearly glistening
meditating and bringing it's force together
each phase of the day in the hand

each phase of the month a framed canvas
Paint it's taken a year to mix
is the color going to live up to your sexual desire
the motor oil to stain your whites

Deep in the cavern mind
have you misunderstood
It takes a lot of focus
each minute of the hour

each phase of the moon
slow dreams spark those pools of fire and uncertainty
forming this erotic imagery that somehow works
The fuel to feed that cavern mind

The eyes of the past

 The past looked at me with it's train light eyes
looking into me with a thousand statements
some of them true

How we sour and move 
sour and move

How we grow and resign to it all
grow and resign

pieces of moving architecture
just excuses to spend and comment
how you reassure

on the treatise of a solid society
one that won't just
get pulled out from under you

The past sat across from me and played it's hand
the bluffs were extraordinary I swear I'm impressed
Those soft cheeks and innocent accusations

How we cling to youth cling to youth
sour and move grow and resign

Pieces of you sewn to convention
obeying and adoring 
feeling the years

how we resist the new trends
pretending we never followed them
bluffing our way through

tricking no one
and only just decieving ourselves
moving sourly in resignation

Right now those eyes meet mine
when I look into them
eyes of accusation

The high Auckland lights

 The highway did it's best to carry me to the center city
Old industrial labrynths had become my home
The sensation is built of rejection and shame it is exile
wastelands and warehouse space

The cities warm cafes and need for attention
as desperate as today grouped narcisists
sufferers whose misery found words and pages
wanting to be someone

highway bridges positioned over the hundred suburbs
bathed in light coming from the highest lamposts
unnaturely high and lofty pointing the way
yet unattainable

Not the wrist nor the eye

 The sun leapt through art class
The lines on the teachers face
The charcoal sketch wanting more
not satisfying the wrist nor the eye

The date was perfectly formed paining exquisitely
I was the abstract attempting surreal and vise worser
I was the lack of a story trying to manifest on paper
Water colored hormones clouding the path ahead

enthusiasm was a sweet opiate conjured by simple looks
and some sort of magic poured out of hands
sacred stains and evidence of perception
oh elegant failure

The sun touched Rebeccas face
day dreams swung into lines and color
morning sun observing shyness and approval seeking
Unaware of the power of our own organs

life played them as we attempted to create art
where was my power of interpretation

The ranch nettle

 the stinging nettle was only twenty meters from the river
The boy had no distinct signs about him small towns hid them
the path went from the highway that no longer exists
to the beach area where sports and accomodation tried

we put our hands in stinging them over betrayed
the river water cold and unable to relieve stinging hands
up the way his isolated house stood like a cartoon 
His parents devout and soiled the way some are

Other parents neurotic and soiled in the rush for nothing
the stinging nettle had it's purpose and and blessing compact
the unknowing wanderer soon learned the leaves tiny barbs
Parents and illusions age and disappear pool water evapourates

Their rules once gave us structure like margins of a river
keeping us from that bushy stinging nettle

I need to use the restroom

 The classroom was a bathroom
The house was a factory
The teacher was a woman with second sight
and she envied envied envied

Construction man Danny farm raised
was learning how to break and enter thiss special house
Climbing the thick vine toward that bathroom window
so that we may teach them all something

toilets and urninals have become sacred shrines
Instead of small windows the whole wall was a big pane of glass
where the outdoor working employees that came and went
would watch you fondly and without judgement

through the vine and up into the window
drenched dressing gown running tap and weird carpet
The classroom was a bathroom

The hollow realm you reside

 hollow body I am just outward fleeing
hallowed and banned from being
surface walls of a person their cheerful smile 
not believeable but just enough to get by for a while

for what do people believe in nowadays anyway
Conveniently assembled half truths positioned on plasic bunch of grapes
Yet I am hollow there's nothing left inside me but these words trying to escape
they come out in a torrent escaping from me as if I was a realm and they were fleeing pleabians

are you one of those words in a glance
panic pushing and kicking give yourself a fighting chance
Realizing it's no longer paradise that truth advances hollow and hallowed and lacking substance
and people's exaggerated myths distance look up at the soft earth of heaven the towers now glance
and even inside this trance that you can't escape, change or evolve to be worthy for once

Red torch bandit

 Joined village
Saint Catherine
the valueless obligations
a criminal is born

redlight torch
isolated couples
opportunity soup
stolen cars chop shops

murder and abduction
red lit attack curtains ripped
Monster of a man plotting
perpertrating evil

300 year sentence
clown served thirty
Out jaded and exposed
Into a bar where his reps long dead

each lead pellet from the shotgun
piercing mercilessly into him
thirty minutes of agony
each story of pain relived

Those young too young

 Between two dimensions
Euphoric unions
Ritual and ceremony
Life's consensual accord

dancing feathers
flicking over each other
dancing inside restless wings
uncertain times

tumultuous moments
schism and negative feedback
anger resentment estrangement
self delusion self deception

Between the sheets
alone colder somehow
solitude friends' oversympathizing
Attempts at forgetting

plastacene double dates
predicable talking points
drinks with stupid names
hangovers stabbing your pangs of infatuation

Those moments in images
clear and visceral
oblivion focuses them
instead of destroying them

Those feathers falling away from each other
floating in separate directions taken by winds of lust
driven far confused and blind separated
awakened in the unfamiliar mud of the mind and spirit 

A hum in the gloom

 The hum of your love in the air
hours after it flew through sensational care
radiating through the bedroom ceiling
returning after sleep and zapping around

the hum of your life and love
I'll admit woke me from deepest sleep
Left me troubled Dawn locked out
Yesterday a casualty

The hum of your love helps me live
Tender presence unseen unlimited
unlocked and liberated
While human time bleeds out

I stare at the rock

 The rock face pale grey
lit up just enough by the clouds of he day
Expressing something urgent and frightening
Clouds part yet more cloud hides underneath

white scratches and fine cracks
The rock face communicates it's recent past
It looks at me like a mirror out here in the mountains
scattered desires like isolated mature trees

clinging to the slopes under the rockface
And what is the emergency what invisible tragedy takes place
As I stare at the rock face for evidence thick stubborn cloud watches
Time clicks on and my eyes harden trying to read the rock face

a secret somewhere inside the heavy granite
My eyes cannot drill into it

the caffeine miracle

 On the second floor balcony
sun blinding finding it's way through hands and eyelids
here we seek leisure caffeine and the novelty of pet time
waitresses wear their vests and formal pants

Their smiles and practice at the word no need work
The first floor muggy cramped and electric
nerves and anxiety running through foodtrays
veins out to hands that serve us

sunset forms like a birth in the sky
between hills sinking low
magical breeze stirring
a miracle

Burden off these shoulders

 relaxed
The fire died down
Blaming disappeared
Tension moves out

chilled out and smooth
No more of that worry
dropped the stress
freedom tastes

Shade spirit of the midnight train

 The midnight train passed through the south of the city
Those patches of rough hardy forest where decades of junk and trash
formed hills and valleys between the trees and no place was as solitary
There she lived the ghost of bright emily in the darkest shade of day
and the living darkness of the night that weaved sheets down from canopies

absorbed fear from wayward homeless seeking shelter
distorting sound and light sewing disorientation over them
a low humm that emits from the earth after the train passes
An alarm bell that wakes the darkness and old emily
still in the form of a young woman replaying a cheerful loop

Horrifying for the onlooker who sees her pale skin and wide smile
and knows in their gut that what stands before them has already lived
has already died and is only semi aware of the world and it's changes
They run from the area and the girl sings in the dark of her loneliness
shrill tones that chase out curious teenagers in sheer fright

When she sees me she beams and tells me
The railway lines are sacred giving her the magnetism
to exist in the darkness and isolation within the empty southern city
The eyes spark and the smile curves inside your mind despite the darkness
who was this person stuck out here on these forest mounds

will she protect this sacred land for me?

Refused

 A visit in the cold rain
emotion on the face
dripping down like tears
the knuckles knock 

The door doesn't open
thus the umbrella remains spread
The cherry blossom hasn't opened
winter and old age glue thoughts together

A curtain flops from the window
The door opens hosts faces are radars
monitors reading every sign
you have been evaluated

They make a polite excuse
leave you out in the mist and rain

The wood of life

 Sitting on God's bench
my human putty face beaming out
I am a piece of this human game
we wind up confused by the many ways

wood splits and in there I find peace
the afternoon sun reflects itself
all over my path
blessed be

I find these fields full
I feel these wounds have healed
I want to become sharpest 
sword in the armory

as blunt as I am
behind and owing much
the honest accounting
shows my shameful reality

wood splits and christ forms me again
my ambitions and desires these comic distractions
all over my path
blessed be

I pray that the little I am
will suffice

Those dregs

 He believes in the dregs
in what people are without awareness
Worshipping the victim
Instead of empowering them to change

he believes the dregs and down trodden
are the best of us
Am I dregs does he believe in me
was he ahead during the confusion

who is keeping he score
at the bottom of the bottle
those last swigs is one for me
will I become something fizzy and worthwhile

wa down here

Igor that stickler

 Igor the silent
The stoic the word frugal
the robust
our underlying leader

Igor the silent like a rock
A heavy thing underground
or completely camouflaged
always present

incredible and consistant
can I live up to that
can I become this example one day
use all of my god given might to be

To be humanly machine
To believe in strength and act
Uncaring of idealogy
solid and trustworthy

You carry that shame well

 I had to carry the shame through the mall
They read it on my face on the sacks
Jeers on the street that found their way
into my inner dwelling for insecurities

Through the airport they looked on
eyes searching for contraband on my body
analyzing every shape size and color on me
reading deep into me like you do right now

dwelling desires half hanging out of me
your machine laughter their glued on eyes
My mistakes collected in a basket
each one visible between the cane

I might as well be naked
regretting my decision to even attempt
held down and presented out of proportion
Now free yet exposed and disapproved of

Coffee at half twelve

 outside the factory working in the clutter
The green hose of the filter the wool and stones
The big fiber sacks clumsy and overflowing
on smooth concrete floors

Coffee we begged for
and useless conversation
the meaningless talk
that fostered illusions

young minds consumed
yet nothing was brewed
mother pointed out the chaos
the work was being done

yet all on different timelines
so no lunch no coffee
no illusions 

Lost wallet

 Down the hill from the main event were aunts and uncles
feasting next to the great auditorium under midday sun
Losing themselves in mouthfuls of food
their very personalities disappearing to make room for more

And after stuffed there was indeed some silence
had they been dilluted by the sheer quantity of food
yes unfortunately aunt teardrop walked back up the hill
her wallet could no longer fit in her jacket pocket

falling out and down the hill
It rolled into my hands uncle teardrop burst out
he said That's my wife's it has her whole life in it
it is her

we heard a scream and aunt teardrop feeling her wallet gone
fell screaming down the grassy hill heart attack raging

Those wedding woes

 And in the house of celebration the planning continued
Everymind was adjusted like drone bees
Presents and decorations were stacked up between lethargic bodies
The bride was exhausted organizing and trying to please

On the sofa staring up at her befuddled husband
disapproval didn't have enough time to hide
So the man stirred and left as dozens of cousins
made themselves at home

bouquets and candles
gowns and food parcels
for the chaos of love
a few hours of simulated order

Rural confinement

 A flimsy fence stands between me and a the rural village
Yellow and white cheerful looking houses
welcoming warm breakfast smells
One imagines smiles and waves

Two children ride their bikes
One of them in his red and yellow suit
the faint attempt at a smile
they pass the cattle crush

There are no paved paths for their bikes
and the main road is just a stoney vein
One of them will leave this place
This small town

Into the ferns

 I skip over the puddle on the forest track
Then my legs sprint as nightfall comes
and my surroundings will turn pitch black
I can still make out the ferns and shrubs

hugging the track under the canopy
I slow down and stop in a clearing
Beds of bracken and a dark shadowy entrance
ahead on the other side 

There is no escape
There is no way back
darkness will soon flood in
safety will escape me

The sun that stayed all night

 big sun tonight
I had a few steps to take
To get across the cave
to see the sun flexing tonight

whisps of tomorrow
still hangingin the sky
like old party ornaments
not yet put away

Big sun shining out
killing the dark
The hose of fire
The blessing blinding

whisps of my destiny
held up to the flames of the night
Like marshmallows on sticks
semi melted ready to enjoy

The Dell and O

 
the dog round round
The dell dew and glare
the trick tell in light
bright eyes excited

running in the long grass
hardly see the pddock
or that angry horse
the delly O the tally ho

the dog bark muffled
the rabbit hole raffle
to tell ye whole
story of the hound

the farmer silly farmer
The Delio

Circular stairwell

 Those wooden sisters
those wooden stairs
the baked clay dirt outside
Under the drought of a thousand days

I call out the large fast growing pine
That has kept up with the pace of the stairwell
That wooden stair rounded circular twisting upward
To help him climb to his bedroom at the top

Sleep off those long warm afternoons
The dry yellow clay ground compacted not a blade of grass
My father looked down through the lightly tinted clean window
His eyes searching for a son or a pet

To keep his mind from the swirling staircase
Sunlit days long mornings eternal afternoons in slumber
bathing in the liquid of memory

Morning soup

 Morning soup and who are you
clouds disperse the sun agrees
obedient skies
encourage people out of houses

Morning soup
the ladel full
fog like steam 
burned off by a warming

haze seasoning
lingering
before day is broth
and buttered bread

soft hands

 wandering off freedom like water
finding a bush a grassy lawn a sunny corner
crawling crawling just a toddler
well when will i have legs

discovery of the permanent and impermanent
the limits of permission and behaviour
it all blends and tickles the new mind
the fresh jelly brain slowly forming

From the common sparrow
To the poisonous insect and arachnids
soft hands will learn hard memory will form

They love the night life

 midnight squirmed and shop shelters shut
The popular street people who had not transformed into
sub human junkies yet were loitering in the pale night air
just enough streetlight to guide them through

empty pale blues just like one thick jug of phantom juice 
sprayed out over the city slowly covereing everything
desperate empty harrowing yet not quite noticeable to the youths
The youths enters a bar thinking themselves predators

yet when fully inside there seemd to be a catalyst in the incense
that drove their Lsd trips and hormones into a swirl of fear addrenaline
and mud packed humidly suffocating confusion
They grabbed chairs as if falling off cliffs

attempted sitting falling sideways
where laughter had once emitted now gasps of shock took hold
pushing their minds to the limits of vertigo and private terror
Once they were adjusted their grins and bluster tormented into submission

The band opened up with some kinky orange light like a hippy's lounge
fizzling with fanta walls and hot lava lamps boiling in the veins of the youths
stirring their unsettled stomachs and living waking nightmares
The strings and drums and vocals threw their minds around

with force and speed until they started to feel their very identities start to bubble and melt
The cold fear they were disappearing from the inside out contrasted with the burning melting
Into sweet sadistic rhythms which reminded them of the suffering they'd pushed on others
Now invisibly belted into this furious little boutique bar where the band ripped through reality

melodies and lyrics that pulled at their sanity and forced light heart attacks
That the drumbeat emulated accelerating and slowing simultaneously with
They yelled help a few times but their voices just came out as emotionally fueled bravos 

Dresden fire storm

 The glowing such so, the falling might
sliced the churches fire rising, now ambushed inside
sleep locked in the enemy humm
feel loosened from targets...  these shells fell sure sudden

 The tar in our seeing that low sir sire
pliers unashamed enforcing our rules
Quite done in the leer rampart
uncheer long sum felt like sling... feel loosened from targets

these shells fell sure sudden

My hell switch clinging
so fast the twin force
Eye licking from target
My lens are lost

The still hit first hoist
fly wash balm
I'm walking on fire
It's an often shoeless dance  

Marathon

 the messenger
with his basic language
knowing the land and roads
knowing the king's reactions

spending weeks on those empty roads
The long knife his only company
scrolls his burden
a strange virtue

when wolves would not howl
lonliness screamed
and the messenger was still
A moving part of the countryside

ears at night and during daylight his eyes
A hooded phantom between kingdoms

The pleb that rises

 Life must slay you
Hack you open and let you bleed out
Life must strike you before you are granted permission
Life must be given your sacrifice

Anger stirs in the heads of the lackers
in others the void only allows complacency
Life must inspire you
if not the subtle betrayal will destroy you

Not in rapid glory
but in slow demise
We all pray to see the nonchalance to turn to sheer panic
Slowly realizing the scared gift was wasted

The pleb that rises is a God
The well fed young that fall are less than imps
And their struggle tripled
The pleb that rises is a god

Beyond the paddocks of my home

 I met my opposing self
he owned those spaces beyond
He ate emotions of every flavor
he built himself on them

I just eyes, just the observing haunting force
exposed to his glory upon glory
His life force fire layered over fire
In the castle of good will and greatness

Villages clinging to the base of the castle
like sucklings clinging to teet
desperate for any connection
evolving and prospering

I just eyes over the place
all the vision yet just an empty haunting force
Their blessings tangible clouds of blue dust
That penetrated wall and floor

My opposing self nodded in every direction
his gratitude power and ambition infinite
neutrality deep strength and overpowering articulation of nature
The good obeys the bad is oppressed in unimaginable torture

This has built paradise, the sinful the dirt
The prideful the spires
The virtuous life between

That blue sunset veda

 the skies closed and our rations ran out
we looked up to the mount
warm streams ran out of it's summit
like transparent blood

we were lost to the elements
ragged and struggling to navigatethe rockfaces
The wind leapt into motion our atrocity
The childish attempt at grandeur

it turned us back and we were forced to return
base camp was gardens and ancient archways
We were locked out of castle grounds
blue sunset cold and intimidating

dancing between the clouds
mocking our presence
Closing the gates
closing the sky

stitching it all up
leaving us as lepers at the steel bars|

The surgical thank you

 Her upset face
the long silent pauses
and the distinct residue of contempt
Like a blush breaking out over her face

and how appropriate we said
She almost changed gear
but the stick crunched on her pout
Stubborn snobby lips and deflated smile

we passed over the card
entered the pin awaiting a curseword
yet she managed a thankyou
We almost had to call an ambulance to extract it

The Killage(kilij)

  Curved like the destiny of a raging advancing empire
A powerful slashing motion outward through armor
The carbon steel obedient and welded in water cooled
as if the thing escaped hell itself

to find a hand to use it's power extinguishing adverseries
swiping between shields and weapons
painting the battle field in deep reds
snapping out and recoiling as the cobra

Öfkeli ve ilerleyen bir imparatorluğun kaderi gibi kıvrılmış
Zırhı yaran güçlü bir savurma hareketi
Karbon çeliği itaatkâr, suda soğutularak kaynaşmış
Sanki cehennemin kendisinden kaçıp gelmiş gibi

Gücünü kullanacak bir el arar, düşmanları yok etmek için
Kalkanlar ve silahlar arasında süzülerek
Savaş alanını koyu kırmızılara boyar
Bir kobra gibi aniden atılıp geri çekilerek

that bite of the truth.

 grand illusions
do not haunt me
The bare bones friction
The hard rejections

I need these truths
the joys of delusion
accompany the cursed
don't count me among

squirt your bitter reality
Bleed it before the deathroes

Time clings to the early dog walker

 up ahead the old man and his dog walked back toward their home
the ghost of teh past and the future leading and following
overlapping them without them seeing
making their motion look ghostly

But each person moves like this
with a little of their past following
a little of their future guiding
overlapping them invisibly

And in the distance as the day mist evapourates
You can make out the shapes of the people
Their regrets and hopes holding them back
leading them on it's all pure sustenance for motion

that oli oli ozler

 Oli Ozler comes out on a sizzler
fifty degrees in the breezy fuzzy sweaty
water under the knees
None to access readily

He came across the desert fox caught him and cooked him
a whizzler it fizzled fur melting in drabs and dribbling
Ozler crueled out his bong slurped izzling
praying from drizzle with the twizzle eyes

dry throat and munchies cozy ozy ozler
thrizzle wuzzle burning people's muzzles
Life's a dance it's a puzzle
how much can you get away with

heaven in the distance

 Heaven glowed in the distance
Only a few millenia to go Christopher
Just recall those centuries of sties beasts
The jeering farmers

Now we have the willow river pear
the piece of fruit that grants us salvation
beyond our subtle righteousness
fools at the outset united under a few ideals

leaving the yarners there the lost territories
tailored to sway the purgotory boys and girls
back into it's sourly sewn realm
Now we can see heaven sparkling just up ahead

The impossible bottle

 I was only little attempting to live as a child
attempting to learn yet I felt as nothing
the discardable expendible waste of teacher's time
I was only trying they looked past me

toward the automatics
Big grey halls where no warmth could accumulate
threats and pressure were to make us 
into people of value

the holes inside their hearts
and behind their eyes
for they didn't see me in the apple
just the browning edge insect injected

wanting needing coming up short
squalid stench ridden begger
hear me croak for my lunch
recite the meaningless lines

the ones that fade from memory as certain as tomorrow
have they succeeded in boring a hole into me
leaving me hollow in the heart and behind the eyes
their one million quips

My desire to know the world no less destroyed
my desire to know what it is made of
getting gumboot muddy in the swamps
sunstroke in the deserts and bewitched in the forests

How I'd like to come back and put you in a bottle
observe you, stick a label 
and leave you on the mantel
Of some derelict grey museum

Begging the wind

 fluttering down from the winter tree
the last to hang on through autumn
The dry wind sucked the juice
outta that stubborn petiole

The float down is a rosey existance
No envy for the camelia that stays glossy year round
or for the thick pine excessive upright prideful stature
No I was just an acer leaking gum like a beatle leaking oil

I am the crusty leaf oranged and pale in the wind
seconds from the green grass ground
twirling suddenly skyward wishing for more time
then an undercurrent catches and almost rips me

The wind turns to gale and sends me over the neighbors fence
disoriented crispy and praying for more wind

Roop Kund expedition (scrabble 15/7/2025)

 faint rain surrounded the circular valley
we fasten belts and buckles we surveyed the outer lake
grading the land and it's deposits all the way to the summit
an exhausted crew with mixed opinions about the expedition

banging in pins and extending out climbing rope
The moisture on the rock face would cost us
tugging on the rope to let the men at the bottom
Know that it was their time to ease on up

after the chose who would scale next
The group quizzed each other on strategy
A mountain fox appeared growled a dire warning
and vanished

Yellow boxed bike family

 The steel box yellow paint and rusted
the missing teeth of the rider first a smirk
then a surveying grin
slowing before the supermarket 

Creaking and squealing the brakes clasped
in his thick farmhand tinkering hands
a three wheel bicycle carriage
The box almost a tailor

greasemarks on the hairy leg skin
almost sixty years on his face
Waving to the carpark observer
a bow legged toddler leapt

using the bicyle wheel to aim himself
landing softly and cheefully fresh grin
a centimeter of dried mucus above
half a drop of saliva clinging

His well kempt sister a stride after
Not to follow but to oversee
The two of them entered gleefully

Rigging the bomb

 A spoonful of wrath
mixed into the unstable mind
an anger factory in the heart
connect them up with fibre optic indignation

wind up the clock the predictable time it takes
To explode on the unaware perturbers
lazer stare shrapnel expression
Radioactive maelstrom or ire

death and chaos from damning eyes

Flight path

 we seek something

Years spent taking off yet not a moment on the destination
rustic birds who have just mastered their wings sky kissed
slowly appearing and disappearing through low mist
That which obscures the path ahead toward future

Through lights and tunnels
old forgotten cities and restaurants
overlapping between the sought things of others
and those we seek obsessively for ourselves

we are hypnotized by the flowing water of the fountain
waching it fall from elaborate designs as if it were time
In it's own closed cycle unfathomable to our minds
clear and liquid possibly descriptive of a moment

we seek something

Facing death

 Death is a thick block
bouncing around the cosmos
Bruising and marking the future
tweeking destiny

fine tuning the extent of life
shadows of a future
hollow and fleeting
our amusing expectations

Bags of woulds and used tos
desire value and memories
stories we live and dream
waking another face from underneath

the one that replaces our living one

Pride of the christian heart

 Blackened christ salt and burn marks
I searched for hope within his eyes
It had been beaten out head tilted forward
body hunched in agony

Compounded sadness and resignation
waiting for the further injustice and suffering
The destruction of his light suddenly evidence
that validated the faithless and acccusers

Would you have him teach you
would you have him show you the value of forgiveness
One of us sold the nails
except for the screams all of us silenced him

will he have a voice in you?
In the circus of your heart?
In the absence of your mind?
or will you just recite scripture and pay the tithing

Yusef morroco

 The south of his face
in the north of his face
The bulges of the outer cheeks
the valleys  and enriched eyes

Politeness clear enhancing pupils
the desert sand browns and yellow
in the skin color of his face
eyes focus then withdrawl

the man in him is certain
the child cautious 

melon and exercise

 The melon needs to be wrapped
There are too many pieces
it's over the side
Ok ill get the wrap

I'd like to come too
over dinner
get some exercise
a group effort

the melon is not heaped anymore
bring me the lid
There's no lid here
go search for it

get out the wrapper then
I had wanted to accompany all
Now you are back from the gym
workout finished

The Liqour racket

 Would we ever be invited up to the lounge of the elite
down here on the street cheap lager and hopeful glances
upward

The faithful day came and we were sent for
To enjoy drinks and yarns with the upper level
Imposters

Before long one of the captains ran his mouth
The knife was put in my hand blood on peanuts
stitches

promises of good behaviour
further humiliation
demotion 

Tragedy of the flying tree

 The district's contractors positioned the equipment
the crane and diggger half bent over with the weight of the tree
the six men in their emergency gear made their way to the far paddock
before they got there the trees snapped catapaulting the trunks and long branches

leaving two of them maimed for life
the muddy ground
the foggy sky

To charge you thrice

 The ferry crossing was full of agents
each one trying to increase the price
tall and accessory using men
with their scripts and obligations

settling the impatient travellers
with round deepened cubicles
where we would sit and accept bad terms
Pretending we had warm water up to our chests

The car would be charged and stay here on the coast
as we made the tricky voyage over the strait
The final negotitation tedium in person
eloquence and false apologies

Funny oats

 Joey baby and his fuming gray oats
Almost porridge in the fleck the great trick
They were gleaming from the bottom of the bowl up
body lines all through mouths lengthways leisure

milk pumps in flood down the side 
pooling and pushing up the crusts
as they expand and complain 
Fruit falls down in great piles

The glint of the breakfast spoon
Raised up before the morning light
throwing yogurt then diving in
almost porridge like 

Yes you do that moxxy loaf

 Mox and roof and rust and aloof
you look at my argan face
my archane stance my qualmed brow
yes you do

You see my zeal as it crosses into fever pitch jet
I sprint gentle on the seedy catwalk
can you see me pacing and jumping awry in faded leather here
yes you do

I've steered you toward the words synchronized and funked
I've heaved your overweight expectations over here to this catwalk
Printed your desires into the threads and colors do you like that kit?
yes you do


(scrabble word pros 9/7)

The venom and the avant guard

 He toyed with his banjo
Twanging the wire on it
I mean the string with his tine
Poison on his tux

Hives crawling 
his gloveless hand
glass half full toxic drink
sitting in the bonafide foyer

the callused thumb
The venom we all avoid
yet know pours like tapwater
fits like clothes

and gets lost in people's pantries
we see tireless clanging peasants
crying for tradition and times of yore
failing in their attempt to raze their trendy ways

golden late afternoon

 the golden down afternoon
humming a silent yellow across my path
refilling my mnd with golden energy
powering me up for inevitable

the dominos of the future
light of today won't shine on them
but through me
n hard times

clumsy eras
yet to be lived
a few drops of thagolden light 
saved up in the kinky mind

Bulldozer of a man

 He moves a tonne of himself across he pavement
the grey white and brown fat slowly burning
over the miles and miles of city space
filling up his box on wheels with the discarded

each footstep a slow affirmative nod forward
the grim expression on his face expressing
the miles yet to be trodden the trash picked up
and the merciless sun checking in on him

instead of sympathy the public ignores him
even in his attempt to clean the mess of all

Serving a piece of the eye

 so a piece of you sought atttention
in the group the furry feeling
everything just clicks into place
A piece of you believed the world would...

set like jelly
Rise like Cake
taste like pie

A piece of me knew it was impossible yet
we've built it sweeter than this has ever been
the reader's eye meeting this one here
The iris and pupil inside my multiverse

the parallels are yours hence
setting like jelly
rising like cake
tasting like pie

making you the reader edible
by I the author
as hungry as the spring predator

microwaved numb

 Numb then exposed suddenly
the world a big face greeting me

numb to who we are
to who we were
simpletons in the mist of our own emotions
Over tea coffee and the illusions of life

Real truths able to navigate their way
through our understanding
we are unable to catch any as they surge and diminish
Blurred out by routine and assumptions

gripping at tiny morsels of what is real
finding ourselves on the ground torn
microwaved on a plate naked and disfigured
cooking the drugs in our veins

avoiding those personal truths that wound the soul

There's a rise and dip just ahead

 It points up a head in the road
Many thousands of miles from here
I've read the map of my own heart my own mind
the point sticks out and tells the story of my future

Changing with every mile I approach it by
Feel it in the wheels as we roll over the present so convinced
Interacting with our wild predictions
cast from boats and dragged in for observation

Destiny sharp with knives of gold and beauty
every surprise cutting lines upon our skin
blessing the wisdom in us deepening it
And then mocking our preoccupation with the future

Igreja Matriz

 Shallow puddles linger
That big block rock in marble
hardly scratched over the centuries
the sherbert flakes

This gargantuan church
It's facade walls
worn by the storms and seasons
The faces of the past invisibly captured

caught and absorbed by the incredible marble
creating it's fine vibration down through the centuries
shoes scuffing, slipping and clacking over these ancient rocks
Infront of the holy beach front giant

Your body is a temple

 From behind says the prey
from the storm says the sky
Hell is our fixation
on those past times awry

Faith ones beg to have
for days flow toward
days for redemption
days to repair

The possibility to transform
into place where light might just live

Millenias into the past

 His features gaunt and the wanderer could see right through
late for nothing on God's time seeing the real face
The features of the devil the offers and persuades
the mind turned against in the dry and sandy wind

drilling into the psyche yet not able to get in
Into the past he spoke with my faults 
Back toward the many errors 
meaning is mine blunder yours

a whirlwind kicked up with a thousand faces of hell
the master clicked his fingers and the devil was pulled to his knees
still appealing still attempting to take up temporary residence in his head
The weight of those past mistakes not of the master but the demon

The fall from greatness shrill the scream of the sensitive body devoured
in the ocean it once ruled
The fall harsher than the million humiliations into darkness and lowness of existance
sending it back to the millenia as glory turned to pain and disgust

Disgraced by the fire of our father

That madrugada dog

 The madrugada dog
Barking off the ceiling
ceiling of the night
divine and abandoned

That shrill bark to let us know it is living
unloved and confused
the abstract gifts of someone and somewhere unknown
a cry of regrets in it's strange lament

telling us of abandonment
The edge of death in the cold
The teeth of silence chewing us 
in the mouth of lonliness

He walked there

 He walked with those sharp thorns attached to his head
The afternoon open as the valley was
the neighbour's smile unknowing of the chief who walked
The Godlike in flesh upon the trail

Blessing it for a millenia
Right off the cross his syrup blood down the side of the head
He took the bag of blood that I am and burst it with a thorn
to show me the worth of my incessant judging

across the valley, this wonderful path of life
A pilgrimage now for the milions
I stand nothing more than a perforated bag of blood
drop by drop I weaken Until full christ shows me I don't need it

The whispering of our dawdling shoes as we wander through
The green and yellow faded grass between dusted conifers
He walked beside me as I was blind and injured
each judgement I made another few drops of blood

Frost and horse

 Backside white art
sparkley a face
which told the full story
paddock disappointment

No stable and just the ache
of the frozen night
exposed out in the foul south winds
breathing ice and frost

Here the horse stands
firm as the frost that mocks and tickles
a layer on the back refusing to thaw
Clock ice grass warning Aruacaria

No shelter except the skimpy pine
traumatized by long hurtful summers

Darren sinking sun crash

 Darren in the sunhole
the cave and the middle road
Darren puts up his bridge smile
Uncontrollable

Sunlight sheet an intruder
A quick purloiner
The dew all dried now
The manure no longer moist

Darren climbed out and avoided the traffic
just to be runover by the sun

compulsory soup

 parsley and sausage
floated laughter over the table
In a big bag of cushioning giggle
The cheap sausage looming out and offending the reader

The parsley goes in and around
Then squashed by the pound
Not the sausage we thought
That saucey cheapness absent

Just parsley infact
in a hot bowl of compulsory soup

No salmon

 the repugnant waiter
his was false aid
you order as I sat the only empty place
A piece of table

Knife and fork yet food unable
He bought the sauce bottle without the lid
treating diners like ungrateful kids
His name was where is your order

My response was empty and exhausted
hence no food consumed
out in the late sunset
somewhere west

The sneeze abrupt

 Shock of that sneeze predisease, avoid the cheese
lactose postage roast gripping sprang gently into cough
blocked jacket lets suck warmth coze and avoid freeze
warm the mother with other layers of clothes

use that flaring hand in the strike of the weak sun
One weak ray falling across the shoulder then blocked out
precision of the icey morning, precision of the slice of sun
simultaneously sneezing and cutting off words like kung fu
over the puffer jacket over the hand attempt

tissue over used sniff and blow
karaoke outburst har chew, ha choo.

SQuare handed

 Square hands grit and DIY
No tattoos none of that bling jewelry
But carpentry skills muscle and ballooned hands
calluses bulging out brown with fine dried skin

The freaky symmetry of it all
Everything that gathers underneath
More easily molded words are written
Backs are patted 

square hands do it all
Measuring up each structure
each length of life
Until it makes some sense

Capital gains

 going to the capital
In your legs you walk
but you also want to be somebody
Legs giving life and hope

Maintenance to the soul
Over the long roads ahead
Knocking on a thousand doors
domestic arguments

couples and their icing of priorities
The other sense of self
That's the five cylinder motor
That can take us to the big capital

Where we can get a feel for who we are
bathes in the inadequacy
illuminated by traffic and street light

The ides that pushed mud

 My love found a slim slimey turtle
dragging a sink for a shell
A hitchhikers thumb
and a reception bell

The turtle would live in the new york town house
Hobo neck extended like ET's face unravelling
Reaching out in the dark winter 
on a street overcrowded by buildings

gloom in it's amphibian mission
Half expecting to be cut from it's sink for a shell
So that it could move out to the countryside
some microclimate it could push mud into

Wrong lane

 The mist of cranked trouble diseased down
through the bridges and junctions
twisting and confusing the drivers
drizzing heavily down across the windscreen

the car pulled over and accusations accelerated
a sudden argument and reversing down the side of the road
back from where we came like a error undone
a mistake rewound from it's origin

Then in tense silence back onto the correct path
No joy or elation at having found the way
Just a quiet awkwardness compounding with wach kilometer
As if the right direction was an expectation not an aim

Pistol face priest

 Bag under the arm elbow guiding it
lifting it over the seats and over the heads of those already sitting
The seated looked up at the priest and his pistol face
What kind of relief will the people feel to have a man of god aboard

His face was never fully exposed to the onlookers
his holy presence flowing like a cape of ghosts through the aisle
Never knowing where and when to impose his godlike state
upon these ground heathens moments from the sky

escaping the burning ruins of europe

 muse on heroin nights
of the carefree emotional artist
drowned in jazz and lack of justice
and a land that massmurdered

kicking out with spliff laundry
exploding trumpets and crazy trance like states
where not an ounce of our real selves are left to be felt or seen
where daily struggles are blurred out and smiles pushed in

overpowering music and drugs until one glares into mirrors
as if watching a self made movie where seconds become days
eyes become tunnels from nowhere to the sweet confusion
the body produces like a piece of work for it's master

seems open stitch by stitch
lingering hopes yellow faded aprons
ripped drying slowly in the pennsylvania wind
a few deadly last notes of perfume blossoming off them

filling the nose with a surreal nostalgia

The road and the story

 he swerves and narrates
accelerates and breaks
extends the story until ovetime
makes us believe in unseen crime

Set the piece for arguements 
and tense ticker contention
humidity conspires
storms steal our attention

he swerves some more
breaks unnecessarily
then puts his foot to the floor
in the middle of an analogy

The city light moves clarity into the night sky
far off sunsets that never were
Aimless drivers seek them for comfort
through the overstoried drizzle

passengers feel coming into the car