Tag Archives: POETRY

IN THE MORNING .. .

IN THE MORNING .. . REVISITING A HUMOUROUS POEM I FOUND ~ THAT I WROTE IN 1986  .. .                               IN THE MORNING .. . . … Continue reading

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NOISY OCEAN .. .

noisy ocean .. . .. as January passes   and February starts scent of dopamine roses   sounds beneath the sea a madrigal of excellence   the tanker passing by windfarm helicopters   hear no ocean clicks insurmountable beasts   … Continue reading

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HOWL LOUDER .. .

howl louder .. . hands that are tied hold faces    traces of love shed from caverns sinews wrenched, borrowed shoes    pale and bruised, whitest lilly petals teasel spikes, black hole shapes    silhouetted on barbed wire brambles the … Continue reading

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AUGUST .. .

august .. . Breezette by glass of august moon just a few more puffs upon your marijuana cigarette before I die lend a moment basking in the sun for those inclement of fun counter-weight my loss of intelligence with excitement, … Continue reading

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BECAUSE PICASSO COULD DRAW .. .

because Picasso could draw .. .  ..                                                       the battle scene lay behind us  the … Continue reading

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GUERNICA .. .

Guernica after Picasso Guernica grey blood shivers runs through my veins where are the brothers of your tortured canvas wiped with a paint-rag to your Spanish bull like an ass wipe of Richthofen’s bombers greeted only by mothers, lovers their … Continue reading

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. .. ‘les deux caméléons’ .. .

. .. ‘les deux caméléons’ .. . By the turnpikewe stopped off at the cornerwhispered stories to the windmy spy glasses slippedand fellyou crushed them under foot Sondeliqueno more secrets any morein the glass menageriewe’ve all been seen beforescrutinousapplies to … Continue reading

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AURORA-METEOR FLASH LIGHTS UP MY SKY .. .

Aurora Meteor Flash Lights Up My Sky .. . .. . …. when late skies of the aurora part there is no feeling in my hands no senses running through me death is a dim cloud descending like cold water … Continue reading

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THE NIGHT POOL .. .

the night pool .. . The intoxication, purity  linseed oil of turpentinecreamy ash the palette  your peacock feathersfronds, alien and falling  from the wet-warm night skyand in the morning  I build again a stairwaystartling, parting airwaves  concave to your heartbirds-foot … Continue reading

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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 … Continue reading

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