
featuring Nico .. .
Around this woollen ball, this puff of life
jangled strings zip, zang across the bridge
echoed voices caught tap tapping on the backboard
white noise an alternating love song
Did you get inside Picasso’s head or Blake
Hockney’s swimming pool remote and lonely
emulsioned out for all to see, not for posterity
who knew the tempera here was set politically
I heard voices in the wild wind ever closer
then revolution was not so a dirty word
violence, obsequious, fabulous, absurd
ampersand the currency of other lands
Safe, narwhaled from our pleasant sundays
village greened, cosied into thirties constructs
like cricket whites b-4 adopting denim jeans
markered CND’s upon angst-filled dreams
Hardwood stage, the age, loose-fit abstract
queen Nico, minimalist, name-checked as an entity
symbolism birthed, seeded by some advertiser’s junk
boys q’p’s, girls capital V’s, coin-slot teasers
Happy to be, therefore I am, persuaded by a Cambells can
or a gym shoe, art’s pale face peroxided over
who took up the mantle or a cudgel to the head
these were artist’s who by art systematically bled!
We were constantly drifting, our life-raft listing
leave me with my bands, my ties, my addictions
I was once like you, a son, fair full of constancy
my meat hung low but rose to all occasions
Now I am meat for the wagon that can never know
where it might end, discarded like a banshee’s wail
in sunny climes, Andalusian, stoned, harpooned
washed up, in the year of getting your shit together
I am a statement written out in purpled blood
shored up by virtue, consecrated, left for dead
I float east where the water turns mauve to angry red
and yellow, orange, white, psychedelic blue
We together formed forever the perfect group
remembered by our perfect name, our Dada beat
icons signatured at Caffe Bizarre on West 3rd street
audiences dazed and damaged when then departed
©edenbraytoday03.12.2022
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A MASH OF OATS AND MAMMARIES .. .
a mash of oats and mammaries .. .
buildings grow from scaffold lines
indian red and maroon-esque
squeezed out from the landscape
a bedrock of social-ution collusion
and there the dark prince comes
tripping upon the telegraph wires
architects shading traced on the
diagram of lore and magnetic fable
tectonic plates that move endlessly
while fancy-nancy rhymes his words
in equal measure of bitterness and scorn
opens wounds with vitrio-lastic gunk
revolving pictures and film spill over
a dumb waterfall of suggestive thought
laced with mammaries, social grime
tik-tok come into view you imposter
mankind once built sewers, church spires
constructed bridges from timber, stone
masonry and steel things that were real
in stormy weather with oatmeal for brekus’
©edenbraytoday17.02.2023
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.. It was meant to reflect on contemporary society – its obsession with building human dolls houses, tik-tok and women’s jugs at the expense of community, re-building the fabric of our world and culture which are both crumbling unattended and uncared for without regard for any traditional values – society will implode if we ignore history and tradition entirely in favour of jingoistic lightweight pallatives which excite momentarily but ultimately fail to deliver – like eating endless buffet on a train that is on its way to oblivion ~ EDENBRAY 18.02,2023
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the escher pomes collection .. .
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