The stream (all workshops)
Surfaces smoothly reflect,
unearthed in this time of lights.
Small and large pieces of paper
litter like letters from a gone war.
Children run in Caribbean colours,
women in stretched black.
The tinnitus city drums softly.
Map arteries weave and congest.
Aquarium nights
dream greetings.
The past arrives all broken
and listing towards the right.
sweep me
beneath my passing
You bespoke my passion
for all your faults
I took you brand
and before the high hand
laid down it
here I am now
the yoke
of a cheiftan
on me
I have twins
arriving
speaking
Pretty eyes
sweet twenty five
"Shinning twins"
annointing mascara
on blue visions
showering
in our showers
cell phone acrobats
with words
scrawl massages
Im Hungry Jesse
and you say
with surety
not so good... your fear of death -
if man can overcome fear
of the unknown, death
man will rise
without any surprise
above all inner collusion
and confusion
Mould long beneath winter's cold white cloak
stirs in the breezes of spring, its thaw,
bugs develop in the sudden warmth,
leaves heave in relief, some made into a pictures
collaged to a stone or gathered tight together
making strange new sculptures of random shape,
as the march winds tear them from their resting place
they take to flight, as if to live a second life.
Now faded, dressed in browns and murky greens,
caught up, they cartwheel down the paths we tread,
beside us as if to compete, spinning like wheels
Give me a view to remember
You know the favourite one
naked-obviously
My daily thrill wrapped up
in skin dewy
The hair fresh from processing
swathes in molton sheets
like a hooker wearing
a synthetic wig
Draping precious threads
smothering masculine
contours
Skin hair sweat
trickling between
soft crags
Your tumescence
piercing silver curtains
sprayed with
cascading comfort
A new day dawns with heavy air
weighted by pollen and with dew
as rising sun begins to stare
at springs blooms opened everywhere
their pastels pleasing to his view
I breathe deeply then I sneeze
wryly smile at "silent" stalk
a nearby gobble makes me freeze
and quietly curse my allergies
then I resume my sylvan walk
Two weeks ago the world was bare
all was gray, pine green and dun
now leaves are sprouting everywhere
as doves and song birds start to pair
frosted mornings now are done
what bodes love’s cheerful glee?
if in passion’s parlour lay,
deftly from lover’s eyes obscured
the dismal residue of reverie’s decay
why so serene love’s panting spell
that lights the eyes of mortal beings?
till heavenly sweet their blessed dream,
unchallenged through the darkness beam,
and on their cheeks the rosy blaze
of blooming peace sublimely mirrors
the purer zeal thy raptured hearts arrest
love is but a contamination of the soul
while o’er the placid look unmoved,
protracted stitches
circumference of each orbit
abrade motives
time chewed
and spat impiously
Descartes cursed
banality of insights
this abscessed “being”
Abdicates
Trapped by his passion
Lost in his art
Stealing other`s lines
To mark his own
At war with his world
Guevera`s child in search of
The dust mote that
Defines his essence
Always out of reach
Dancing on the sunlight
Knifing through
A fly specked window
Alone with the breath of
future thoughts
abreast of nightshade tipping the moon
hands of iron cupped my desire coaxing me,
into the shadow-lands of my obsession
the shades moved
as your fingers found their mirror,
and iridescent trails of dark-light
kaleidoscope across my skin
I have visions of your hands
and their movements,
I feel a rush of want
to pull in their need
obsessed
I watch each wave
within every gesture
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