Tag: poetry

Reaper Sleeper (Song)

I do not wish for a kiss

I do not wish for that bliss

I just want a normal nights sleep

Reap the quiet so I might

Covid has us stresses beyond the scope

And Donald needs walk the rope

We never thought we would be on this slope

can I cope

I cant cope

Resort to reaping my sleep

Sowing nothing in the deep

Creep creep creeks

Oxygen (Song)

You’re my oxygen, one breath of you, I was hooked for life

You’re my love friend, one kiss of you, I was tired my wife

It’s our love again, it lasts and lasts, even at the darkest night

Be careful with me, I’m a gentle precious miss who’s bright

Oxygen, breathe in

Life, heave in

We, can be in

Love

Joined at the hip

Kiss the lips

Lasts the length of the oxygen

Feeding the Clock (Song)

1. Clock

In my mouth

the bit is

Block the pain

From whips and pins

As it rides me

Rides me to win

2. South

——

Clock men, all on our backs

Tick tock

None of us win

They all, get the Champaign

We get scars, and a carrot if we win

——

3. Bull

All to the bull god

The mighty horn and throb

A line to go up for no real reason

We’re dead even though we’re living

——

4. Straw

How can the clouds save us?

Sounds like a lie to placate us

Subdued in a short mess

Mother tells us eat our cress

—-

Feeding

Feeding the clock

Pushing the gears and stock

For one more goddam hour

Never get no time to rock

We are just feeding

Feeding the clock

Gallefae: part one

Down the path of a maze of fasts, grows the mast of a tree I have never before seen. I may hath fauna and free, upping my great hunger for I saw upon a mushroom thee a fae of new life.

Bright blessings to you, my great friend. I shall call thee? Whom?

My breath did think for a second, for I knew that not giving my true name would be a great idea, for a fae asking it is almost knowing it, and having it will give it a power upon me that no other hath posses. So I had an idea, to give a falsehood, a trick name for a tricksy creature. A fae shouldn’t be given your real name, no matter the cost, for the cost of giving it would be greater even still.

My name is the night sky above us, a star that shines the darkest yet can be seen by all. My reply seemed to satisfy the fae.

Ah. You are well versed in the law of the fae. I am glad that you did come this way. For I have need of your labour.

Again, I knew that I could not agree totally to what the fae wished. Behold for it still could ask me to count the atoms in a tree and I would be cursed to do so until I finished such a task even if I died beforehand. So I said,

“I shall only agree if you do half the work, and my reward is a measure of riches beyond the king of the ocean.”

And this the Fae did smile at me and qouthed It is done, so it shall upon completion of the task for which I will do half.

The fae did then tell me the task, was in fact to steal the Treasury of said king of the ocean. I was flummoxed at such a task, for it was the king of the ocean whom was but a fae himself.

”A rather ambitious proposal, methinks you hath a plan of great theft to accomplish it?” I changed my stance, upon the rock of which I was standing.

Indeed. The fae’s eyes said and we passed into the realm of the fae. A many tales can be told of the realm, ones of forests, castles, caves, dark and light in play beyond imaginings of newly formed ideologies. A place of both life, magic, death, and the astral play amongst all. A place of nothing but the most strange, but also strangely normal, of birds flying backwards, flowers pollinating bees, words writing people, and a rainbow that connects all together like a path that has no beginning or end.

Echidna Garden

Hiding from the other, my spines are protecting me

But also keeping me from, the joys of the outside

Doors shut, but I want to see your face, I want to feel your touch

We can’t do that though, their is no place to be us that’s not inside our own spines

Whine and whine all the time

We can’t sit, anymore

hurt each other we aren’t loving anymore

It’s not fine

It’s not fine

Its just time

The Gulf of Concrete

Look across the expanse

Beyond the mist and fog

You can only just see the other side

We curse our circumstance

Only wishes to flog

We have all been taken for a ride

By the man who holds the gun

Who tricked us, made to dance

By his illegitimate horrible garish hide

As he watches us silently die, I shall know he will not find

A heavenly spirit or hellish iffirit

Greater than the combined will we shall hate him with

Chicken in my pocket

Trilogy of course a song at a pause, a tinkle in the sky due

Arrange all that arrangements within the arrearage that Providence was supplemented

A chicken in my pocket, a trinket in my socket, a heart in my song, along along

Spider and besides her hair, a beak of the finest pear, my gods it is a simple wrote

Why the goat?

Why the goat?

Tore at the towers gate, a distance from the salty lake that sits upon the midnight haste’s a moon above and beyond its gate

Dark castle waits with a vampires touch, a sociologist at heart he wants to study, the way in which the bite does flurry, flurry in the hearts of men

A dock full of rockets, a paladin and a robber, sit uneasy in truce to catch the brute, whom wilt above the town

And all the while the fool does sing, songs of pockets, chicken and men, a happily known life of Blissfull ignorance of the terror that awaits them…

From the time of my birth, anew

For if a phoenix shall soar beyond its capacity
Churchills bark, full of audacity
I am game to feel an empty loss
A place of silence, the resonance of dross

Words remixed in a deluge of hails
Fires relit, rebels with no nails
March upon our banner fully
As smoke fills lungs, tounges do bogies

Potato jackets full of ocean salt
punters blasted with summers dead colt
we seek our mountains gains
rocks fall, gain to pain

Lake girl hit, the hospital is split
towers above the clouds
terror drives them, into the ground
wars begin again, barking hellish den

Dash tells of no future for children
Inspiration fell short of desires
Coral forests white like policy
Rudd speaks empty apology.

Around again this trickle-down lie
A plebiscite to run marks on tyres
Rainbows immersion, postal dispersion
We ask what a gurt ocean is

Fires and fires, a yet ignore
what is more important than
our counties wounds
will attention be given soon

Vous Cap Gump

Getting all the dreams

Corona and work by Microsoft Teams

I can’t get my coffee and cream

Washing my hands, and singing my prayers

Watching the screen, getting glare to spare

I’m watching a live stream of O’hare

Oh I’m lonely

distance socially

Coronavirus blues

Missing all the social cues

Nightmare fueled by the midnight news

Shutting the stores down, chewing on noodle cores

I’m just trying to do what I can and not be sore

Bus stop: local pessimism only

Lichen growing on a tree nearby the pavement that makes up this place of waiting

Bus stop for the place you wait for a bus to come and consume you

When it’s done digesting, it spits you out and has moved you

How many people are needed to feed this huge beast every day?

Is it possible that one day it will become so hungry that the whole world in on one bus?

Maybe that’s what will be called the crush

I have a few friends on this bus, people I see only on my bus

It’s one of many

Like me they are consumed, digested moved, it’s a slow process each day we are on the bus twice each

Some get consumed more, I wonder if that will make them older, bolder, colder than me?

I sometimes find myself on the bus with no idea when I got on. The digestive system has gotten to my memory.

Do I actually get off the bus? Or is that a dream brought on by these same forces? Are we all just courses? For the ever consuming bus?

Window shines

‪yes I know it’s a rap

Packed bus. Looking at jobs. Tummy feels like knots. Got to get to my stop. I’m not, going ‬to be above all the things in mind. I’m live, but I have to worry about all the things all the time. I want to feel for all the things that are happening, but I’m just on my own moccasins.

I swear to you that they are doing this to keep your focus on your own problems. A distraction to stop you thinking about all they have done to make us get closer to the day it’s all over.

Anthropeacene. It’s own end and our own means. I’m not kidding, I just seem…

Knots in a scene. Not shibari fun but a knotted bleed. Hanging us all like Odins knowledge tree.

Giving up your eyes to save face

We see the truth

It’s them that’s making the hate

We can’t do this again

Anthropeacene, it’s just what they mean

All that will be left is lizards and queens

Eyes on the shadows

A man walking

Street lights change

Pavement and hazelnut coffee

Storm hails from a dark unseen sky

A cat wandering slowly eating the birds killed by the hail

A fox running through the square

Women in pink dress with black hair, fixing her shoe

Crows nesting

Watching them fledge

A night of rain like none ever before

Less cars than before

More urgent steps

The crows come back

A storm kills them too

A cat, sits and sees the humans too

The days seem to have been shorter

Then heat and heat and heat

Cats lie abandoned

One human slowly walks though the square

Only the cat left

Years pass

Empty city full of cats

Everything is breaking

Animals and plants come back

Ice falls often

Then the cats are bigger

Smarter

A then one finds me

And I cannot observe anymore

Shellman

this man evil.
not Hitler evil
not even sideshow bob evil
not a supervillain
just a man who has no brain, no hart, no soul
just a man who is killing us all
by doing noting at all

he is shellman
a sellman who is but a shell
dead, bereft of life but walking on the ash
shaking leaf hand received by none
he is done, done, done

he is shellman
a sellman who is but a shell
said, gives nothing the knife salting a lash
fake he has no place upon our earth
he is dumb, dumb, dumb

this man evil.
not Hitler evil
not even sideshow bob evil
not a supervillain
just a man who has no brain, no hart, no soul
just a man who is killing us all
by doing noting at all

Angels Tyr

Forget the love of a billion stars as the wink upon the surface of a moons lake. Your blessing brings me my knees to buckle under the weight of the day.

Intoxicated light glimmering feathers upon my face

Soft, and flush, each a kiss from your body to mine

Reaching beyond each nerve to my soul and touching each part to heal it

Growing love, to melt into your body. Push gently, as a creeks first flowing in spring rain. Gulping then the streams supple blessing to my sounds forge.

Moonshine darkness

(Koala)

Nay the last few days had brought her better leaves than ever
Never had it seemed they where growing faster than she could eat
The big ones, with their big stomp feet had helped her find them
Stems, stalk and leaf, they crunched in her mouth, slowly to be digested in her nap

The big ones visited her and brought more leaves, so many she could not believe 
How had they found them? It had been such a struggle, all her life
Now, it was like, forests of leaves just for her, it was nice
Silently, cameras capture her subtle beauty, come to visit her, call her cutie

The moon shone upon her enclosure as she was feeling her age
Darkly, the night continues to expose shadows across the leaves 
She can’t eat as many, but they bring her more than what seems like whole trees
No more, the next night, they being no more, as she is now in the big eternal eucalyptus tree
And the moon continues to shine upon the darkness left behind 

Counters in the grass

Eastwardly the raspberry bush grows

Anchored, down in the grass with twelve counters

Each day one disappears, taken on travels of mysterious places

I tie my shoelaces, and think of the races

Perfect metaphors for the capitalist people, watching it

The system hits them and as hard, clasping the crop in its hand

The raspberry bush grows nearby, sticking thorns into those taking coins

How many metaphors can you stand? I’m just here, watching the grass and hoping you can know.

Three green bikes

They sit on the sidewalk waiting

A set of three green bikes

faintly I sleep on bus

Kicking life inside my tum

Rush, of the fight inside my mind

Is never quite satisfied by all the din

Lilies on my dreams growing like fire

Likes on rushing to play my lyre

Truss upon truss over the rumors

Kite flying higher, blooming consumers

Ring a ding, upon the quick sin

Campus body slopes and upon me