news of the night:
they're madly searching for fresh acts of God
(or quantum luck) on second floors,
scattered tumblers in trailer parks.
nevermind the great uncertainty
leaning down your neckline,
the untelling weight-hood and period-luminosities
they teach you to ignore in school
until your comfortable derangement
can be seen from a dozen parsecs away
as one more animal armageddon.
why don't our hands,
against our weather?
low Tlow T1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
i'm too soft and rotten
sacred blood oaths,
or thresholds; a frozen inch of face
the same as light years, oceans,
i'd rather brush my mind with pills
and stick these artifacts of wealth
hard inside your origins
and keep the grass
ParamnesiaI've tasted the richness and emptinessParamnesia1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Hacked my way through abstract forests,
Somehow it all made sense.
A scene gets deleted,
I'm looking out and watching myself
Walk backwards like a Hollywood ghoul:
I hear you say,
"Only hummingbirds can fly that way".
You are binding stars to everything,
You tell me it is sunlight catching on dust
My self-taught body can utilise these fictions:
Irrational numbers which bend in arm-crooks,
Closing eye beams, who shrivel fjords
And shutter planets;
A wicked, living dissolution (without a will,
Defeats the twin which light has dreamed . . .
And now un-dreams.
I watch the untold eloquence of mind (we thought it chaos,
But it was freedom!)
The fonts and titles, the smiling spectres
Cataloged in gravities
Are now, themselves, in repossession.
Starting where we finished,
Humming backwards to the sun.
dead1.dead1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
i hear these words
and something happens
in the yard;
it doesn't fit
i see it squeeze
into the slits
beneath your shirt.
i feel it fly the smooth
from off your back. it turns
and hides behind the acres,
of jagged rooftops,
kept far and safe
has left the limb
as light would leave
i’m staring into its absence
and some new kind of animal is made;
its reversal is alive.
it doesn't move or breathe.
the park is wintered over, and i don’t go.
are all gone.
and when they do come back, they never change
from birth to birth,
a clan of inbred
with felt umbrella
that don’t remember
who i was.
one last thought of your last thought
and all the rest become their graves.
nothing i remember, now
will reach the earth.
i have no bottom ground,
the narrow knots of wood
that span and hoard and cup my self
are laughing into holes;
pentadactylismpentadactylism2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and in so doing
you deign to make
some unknighted landfall
in a mime
of an irreversible
all this time
when we’ve gathered up the last
of roadworthy flowers,
touched our final
in the skull
on leaving . . .
we’re still together
hungering in underboards
dog-fed on blood slivers, whiplash and improvidence.
do we pick at moments
to unlock their gnashing
i have no reason for what i want
just . . . be my collaborateur
be everything that is outlying and forbidden
the cavus which cannot bear the weight of waterweeds
and i promise to keep you
ever since our funeral
in that godless hollow
of a mind
PositiveLeft to me, your worst historian,Positive10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
to pick up, in a daze, some depth of diction
I never found while you had lived
and I can only now pretend that words are capsules
of sanguinity, that they’ll unmask the symbologies
of sound that bore your binaries to their realms
like sacred dreams of Hypnos.
Regret’s a simple word.
I always thought of "A Separate Peace", and in those scenes
you were this Mozart in the rough, a perfect chord, one
which I would meekly channel through cracks of light
shown through the fist of my own interference,
Why this wisdom, now?
The cosmic clown who wrote this song
does not annotate our endings with an epilogue.
I do not see the irony in celebrating
your new found space.
There is no iconicity,
no special shape
that serves the world
as you did serve,
to bend and writhe the streets
into a wellspring, a circuitr
sadists are people, toothis sun has found its nihilistssadists are people, too1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
on cold curbs,
on concrete roads.
everyday, one of them guards the subdivision.
i thought, “a sphinx, a totem piece, an angel of death.”
whatever, my sleepy projectionist.
it’s on my way anywhere.
it’s on my way home.
silver-brown maw, it’s at its ugliest
shriveling inside of possum flesh
in a slow taut hug
of the last empty
i won't be caught up
just lay there
shallowit's not your beautiful faceshallow2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that i love
it's how you ruin it
Spring is the perfect time to give up, completelySpring is the perfect time to give up, completely2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
in place of being
our dual contours and divinations
spooning needle eyes of space
and throwing hands at truth the way
a stroke of grass will seem to seethe
with secret oaths
you've been leaving braille and bokeh
wings of Hypnos and slow debridements.
won't you swallow
all of it: Spring,
. . . marry him.. . . marry him.2 years ago in The Great Valentine Exchange More Like This
he will gleam like photons
tangled in sheer joy.
where i harvest dead localities,
he will sheath the touchstone nerve.
his voice will soothe great quandaries
like growling cicadas solve summer nights.
his eyes will break into blessed anointments.
his lips will pierce the frighteners
and spill their silver antidotes -
a cure for every blasphemy,
a pardon for every criminal.
remember who he was,
a mystic lisping empathy
for pure, unbottled moments,
a silence worming through bicycle wind,
a gender scribbled on a brainstorm,
the flashing of satori
in the scatter-shooting cosmos,
a wonderer, wondrous
with no guilty body,
a boy's fond familiar
who keeps a tail feather of god
stuffed in a bag of beetle legs
and cats eye marble galaxies.
i suppose i was never
the one who was meant to apron you,
to feed the thirsty virginities
that open up
beneath your womb. . .
i'm not the one to paper you
with sanctuaries and closet troves,
newshours no longer whittle into daysnews2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
strangled and uncalendared;
forbidden rituals of a new dark Eros
clothesline sheets and bed throes → blunders in a blue face
and sensing your reversals, i’ve grown and grown impossibly old;
god’s bad math:
infinities as remainders.
however they lapse
i spend the better part of them
burning through the flyleaves
for mandalas sealed in hell bank
for ashes of your epilogue
for the end of throats
in songs and news.
no one can regret their past
but of futures . . .
like when planets will re-purpose you
into interstellar fruit bats or thyme pulled from the brink of comets
and you’re wondering why i'll never find you
when datebooks write us in the living.
historythe air was moltenhistory8 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
i see the evidence
cooling in your wake
and iron maidens
three reasons i am a bastardthree reasons i am a bastard1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
1. to bury in your bed to chin, noose from hands, ideas, or sheets, then drown and drown
2. to anchor an emerging fetish, for synergies unknown, fevering for the subaltern
to the grotto in the vacuum, to the drug beneath the nightdress, to find this sundew
herringbone-aligned just below their poltergeist, their snowy wraith, their voice of skin,
from yours, tearing
into . . .
3. to know that we cannot know a thing with our mother-given mind, and still be
(it is not a dream if it is everyday)i no longer have the gall(it is not a dream if it is everyday)1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
to write letters to my universe.
it’s stony quiet,
it’s possum eyes in headlights,
in Victrola dust.
some tireless pamphleteer
has wrecked this room
with motorized felicity!
there must be
one bill for every breath,
and now, i see
you are the same.
you’re no magic
planet. i will
some time tomorrow,
mid morning, when the bugs have died,
and drive to work
and i won’t think
that ever came
before that sun.
i’ll trade in shibboleths
and type in pointy letters
these sharp assessments
of fallacies and
that fringe our fates
like breached reactors,
off of old yucca
and they’ll pay me well
and you won’t hear me,
the shut-inthe shut-in2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
where are these keyholes to the Equinox? the stars huddle
like alien nettle,
a gray chime of wrens scaling tree limbs and middays,
Darwin has no lines for me
i've sheetrocked the blistering ivies and blossoms.
i've glassed out daubers and frightening mollusks
pillowing through mud honey and minute old ruins.
intimate with my quiet desk, my paper hoard
i'm still a coward; the envelopes, Obama glass, the dozen unused spiral
diaries are menacing concoctions, minotaurs of lost dimensions.
i used to sleep in creek-beds.
Embers in dark placesThose little kissesEmbers in dark places1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
turn into blazing flames of
The Pale Likeness of a Colour The Pale Likeness of a Colour, SpokenThe Pale Likeness of a Colour4 years ago in Open More Like This
the rampant eddies
have torn from the corners
of long horizons
some ancient colour:
a scarlet furrow
that air divulged, raving
in an afterlife
i'll never reach.
beneathbeneath1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
it goes without saying:
the air that settles
on your chest
the language of your local fruit
the swirl of rind
their glyphs and runes
like sun-bent cheeks
and creatured time
that sleeps between us.
i needn't tell you anything
or speak my way inside of you
you've doctored in all my aspirations
your furious dreams' wild successions
no longer carry
i am written
Ode to Devon DelightsNow listen 'ere me lurversOde to Devon Delights2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
tis zummit ye should know
if yur lurking fur zum fun
ye aint got far to go.
Cos 'ere in zunny Deb'n,
the pixies come and play
when yur drinkin' Scrumpy Zider
and rolling in the 'aay!
It may be surfers paradise
to those within the know,
is zummer's best
a festival to sow..
Seeds of grokel friendship of course,
Anyhow, as I be saying
that there them
are the greenest ye will find
and the countryzide,
it be 'Dev-ine'.
I can 'arrtily recommend
our delicious cream teas
tho' nothing beats
with clotted cream,
and a 99!
The deb'n maids
are the prettiest
in all the land
and the beys,
they aint all bad!
On a good day that is..
So me dears
put Deb'n on yur map!
we've made the best muzicians
Need I zay more?!...
Zee ye all zoon then.
Copyright - AMY whimsicalworks (Please respect)
february night skysuspended, face down,february night sky2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
from a patch of snowy ground
seeking what's below.
eyes tight with the cold
scanning smoke-veiled fi'ry depths;
snow-flake embers rise.
my feet slip their bonds;
i plunge head long and free
into winter's blaze.
DANCING WITH DEMETEROnce, I met Demeter in the furrows of my Dreams,DANCING WITH DEMETER1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
golden and gilding where my shade on flightless
wing flew inward, I heard her speak to me, words
of honey dripping into an amber remembrance
"never forget" she whispered, "never forget who
you are", so in the nativity of Solitude I practiced
my art, scribbling poems inked with my blood and
tears, I studied the veins of trees and drank the
blood that detoured from them, diluting Obscurity
with Need, Force with Fluidity, turning Burdens
into a garden of Blessings, I learned to assert
my Femininity from watery temple within to the
socialist Darkness without, I learned to be true
to myself and trust my nature, my kin that has
always been mine, forever have I been a student
of Eternity and when the world died in me-stained
with my red ochre menses-I knew that the possibilities
and promises still endured, so I danced on the arc
of Twilight shifting through my shadow, I was not
afraid for I felt Love surround me with her limitless
SaltBefore you were readySalt10 months ago in Free Verse More Like This
you took to the sea
and I smiled at you
with the fine white teeth
of a shark
Before I was ready
your hands harbored me
in deep water and stars
where my wrinkled soul
swaying and slow
opened its foam-grey eyes
our aging seasonwinter comes in wavesour aging season2 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
warmth enough to leave you weak
softly slips away
Eggshell AnnulmentVicious honeymooning,Eggshell Annulment2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
We are witnesses to
The weight of the night
Breaking up into a million pieces
To make a cascade of shivery mess:
Like the collapse of an invisible dimension,
I felt it pass right through us.
Caught alighting in our hair
These bullet flecks of lost personae,
Gluttons thieving on blue genetics.
We've tried our hand at dust translation,
Colour wheels, encyclo-
pedism; nothing in our sunken tungsten
Will make a ring
From our tea-stained souls.
The brevity pools off
To a kind of rain-blur cinema,
Like two oceans swallowing eachother up,
As if in biting conversations -
These giant neptunes
That never stop
Our realms distend in titan lungs -
We pill our dream-cache into lives,
Line them up like wet projections
That waver on ceilings until they expire
Through heaving windpipes
And into the dark:
We're jettisoning lifeboats
To save our thoughts
From the starless hadal.
The facade of reality skims along scapes