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F O R G E D H A R T Z

Submitted by Esker on Mon, 2016-06-06 14:58

hertz
the needles flick
in dull green round
the blood shunt
in antiseptic aroma
bloom

in black and whites
the light captured
angles and brow
contours and wisp
a ravaged sky
painted painful blue
the clocks sweep
says nearing two

beneath lids
dreams twitch
lips purse
the window draft
stirs on downy arms
soft silhouette

buses thump
beneath a traffic
afternoon drone
like a single fly
buzzing in the
heavens height
alighting on
corner crown
molding

our love was alive
on paper
words like fingers
pressed
waves in washed
crevices of delicious
sins
the shiver of the
damp sprays
the pulling of its
heavy depths
Dive in
dive deep and
drown in its glittering
magic

jutting verb vocabulary
all strawberries and
cream
beneath a mid nights
rattling blades of a fan
gushing air
in steamed dreams
streaming
arriving thunderheads
avalanches of brilliant
white and thick dry
blue
we drank and drank
our thirst
oasis and rivers
drowsy till we crashed

echo drops
falling in the dark
lavoratory
pools like
ghosts
where sunshine
dares
draped
drawn
across
promitories
plain abandon

u sleep
I watch
the day falling
into the bruise
of twilight
a wind tangling
in the leafy
spirit animation
outside the window

...

Editing stage: 
Editing - rough draft

Comments

vandiemenspeak

Wed, 2016-06-08 09:38

vandiemenspeak's picture
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Sleek, deft, writing up, then down the oscillations with sweet little vignettes like:

buses thump
beneath a traffic
afternoon drone
like a single fly
buzzing in the
heavens height
alighting on
corner crown
molding

Thus, has an uncanny melancholy and timeless beauty to it. like a moving portrait of an old city, and (shotgun?) wedding, the sense of legality in the fingerprinting dark of a subterranean dream police station. And the ending worked like a charm, read it a few times and meditated on that image.
Could say the branches were almost waving us on our way, but then inside that tardis of creation, who knows? that's part of the great mystery..
I may be over-thinking again, I'm feeling J G ballard, shot through with desolation angels.
Wow.

Thanks.

Chris.

PS Don't know why this triggered a memory of this book: If you can find a copy of "The third Policeman" by Brian O'Nolan - highly recommend it, think it would be right up your street, highly regarded by those who know, neglected relic now of the past, otherwise went by the Pen name Flann O'Doyle or Flann O'Brian - even Joyce would have been jealous:

http://neglectedbooks.com/?p=37
https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/3359269-the-third-policeman

Actually, this one works and is clean if you have a fangled ebook reader:
http://bajafiles.com/f/76eK6

Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

Esker

Wed, 2016-06-08 09:46

Esker's picture

the cool cardic collective wave
the wind is in the trees
dressed in black
trimmed the beard
driving the italian courier
a friend repaired
a mechanical marvel
though they live in lifes hazards

movie caravan across from Twiggs
more movies..a constant now
and live evolves about them
our townsfolk steady

rain spits down from above
nothing steady yet
a meeting too hit at noon
for the hour and then
over to my Ex's

thinking the whole while
how I have come up
and down the ladders
of ego and sucess

finally did a tarot reading
had sup with some friends
and watched televisions
creative forces for hours
catching some fitful hours
dreams before dragging
my ass down to the library

I will look up this book...
I have a laptop but not
plug on the end of the
charger....a simple seven
dollar item with some
solder..another genius
friend can do this for
free...

yet I tarry at all of this
going round and round
and down the journey
of the river noting this
and that and talking
in intimate with the contacts
along the way

been looking for a book
maybe when the weather
is not damp I can rent
it ffrom this place or the
little bookstore..a delight
and the most friendliest
of girls

maybe hit the mall on
the way over there.
a very smiling slender
youthful muse always
puts on a fresh pot
of coffee...funny how
the little things contend
me through the somewhat
ardous ponderings and
questions of why what
how and what ever for

Thank U chris for the
comment and link

Mr Esker!

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