a few of mine, diversity and regrets included

well who'd've thunk? my bp's up
it's been a week of stress and strain
arm near damned blew up as cuff
inflated causing pain enough to
make me bite my lip before
i'd swear and tear it from its perch.
surely it's not meant to hurt?




oh, neato, they want blood as well.
here - have a vein, or two, or three!
take 'em all, that's fine, that's swell
stab them with your stainless steel

i know, i know, it's im por tant
and really i don't even mind
it's only 'cos my bp's up
that these small things i seem to find

a nnoy ing!
 
each key stroked resonates
small dark-bright notes
punctuate the white expanse
sounds
in shapes
2D music
symbols of noise

can i make writing
music to your ears?
 
dis as soc i ation
yet again
mind divorced from body
without pain
thoughts forget they're meant to stay
within this flesh
within this brain
the physi
cali
tee
remains
for now
a measure i don't need
to feel
again
 
fools cackle
at things they fail to understand
it's not their fault
let them stand and point and laugh
i'm the one smiling
their mirth is bred from ignorance
let them be happy


:rolleyes::)
 
pre var
i
cay
shun
guilty as charged
no mea-culpa here, though
so sleepy yet
these words will spill forthwith
regardless of my waking will
letting them
escape to play
pursue
peruse

irreverence
ensues
 
from dirty30

no.1


sometimes i drift away from myself
become
way too remote
when really
i want to reach inside
clutch a handful of creativity and
f l i n g it at the stars
w
a
t
c
h it arc
and fall
as huge and heavenly bowers
green green green
a cathedral of trees filled with exotic choiring birds
unseen except for brilliant flashes
voices soaring
filling the vaulted spaces
filling the empty places inside
me

on thoughts like these i shine
 
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dis as soc i ation
yet again
mind divorced from body
without pain
thoughts forget they're meant to stay
within this flesh
within this brain
the physi
cali
tee
remains
for now
a measure i don't need
to feel
again

pre var
i
cay
shun
guilty as charged
no mea-culpa here, though
so sleepy yet
these words will spill forthwith
regardless of my waking will
letting them
escape to play
pursue
peruse

irreverence
ensues
Whoa, these are freakin' me out!
I really like dis as soc i ation

no.1


sometimes i drift away from myself
become
way too remote
when really
i want to reach inside
clutch a handful of creativity and
f l i n g it at the stars
w
a
t
c
h it arc
and fall
as huge and heavenly bowers
green green green
a cathedral of trees filled with exotic choiring birds
unseen except for brilliant flashes of plumage
their voices soaring
filling the vaulted spaces
filling the empty places inside
me

on thoughts like these i shine
I like the eeee's the green the tree but especially unseen
I like the distance between birds and unseen, not sure why, just do!

And I think watch could be a fun shape... If you wanted to... Concrete-style, no?:D
 
Whoa, these are freakin' me out!
I really like dis as soc i ation


I like the eeee's the green the tree but especially unseen
I like the distance between birds and unseen, not sure why, just do!

And I think watch could be a fun shape... If you wanted to... Concrete-style, no?:D
thanks, Pab. You're always so kind to comment :)

why freakin you out? lol. i'm having a problem right now with writing any other way than live. maybe a few tiny tweaks for typos or line breaks. these are what 'arrived'.

yes, i wanted to make an arc shape with the word watch or watch it arc, cos that was how i saw it in my mind's eye as it wrote the words ... maybe i will go back and try to edit it to shape. it's a bit tricky *ponders*
 
thanks, Pab. You're always so kind to comment :)

why freakin you out? lol. i'm having a problem right now with writing any other way than live. maybe a few tiny tweaks for typos or line breaks. these are what 'arrived'.

yes, i wanted to make an arc shape with the word watch or watch it arc, cos that was how i saw it in my mind's eye as it wrote the words ... maybe i will go back and try to edit it to shape. it's a bit tricky *ponders*

Eh, writing live is good if that's what you're in the mood for :)
Freakin' me out because I don't think I've seen words blasted apart like that!
I could think of a way to slap that bit into a shape. It involves a key to the right of the zero, on my keyboard anyway :D
 
from dirty 30/30

no.2


poem
po-em
poe-im

like larval caddis
turns stonesmith
each case a nuanced place of
graft and grit
treasures troved
a po-im builds upon itself
and, when well-crafted,
hoardes a wealth
of facets to reflect
to turn the eye, the mind, the
very breath direct-
-ly in its lungs while
hid way inside its smooth interior
are spaces shaded
far less showy
though know they're not one whit inferior
 
from dirty 30/30

no.3


if i were Alice
i would suck
puhleeze ... *rolleyes*
get your minds up out that muck
what i mean to say is this:
when it comes to mirrors
seems i'm missing something vital!
spatial awareness is entitled
surely to more than just a nod to concept
yet
when looking through that looking glass
i'm barely telling face from arse

not that my face is really bum-like
or my arse resembles face
it's the mixing up of angles
front and back and back to front
the left to rights and right to lefts i lack

and then when i turn sideways on?
that's when things get really fun








4/30


how is it three can have
so
much
stuff?
and how can time have passed so swiftly
accumulating
so
much
dust?
fingertips are raw
are sore
with sorting, bagging, hoisting, lugging
bones complain
and muscles blame the brain for its
idea - no
cheering its audacity
its 'don't kick 'em up the butt' tenacity ...

i counted every screw
each allen ruddy keyed connection in my bed
tossed out old cards he'd sent me
with lost lighters, rizlas, worn and warped LP's
and still i haven't finished but at least the rooms are swapped
the whole house had a change around
and i am fit to drop
 
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no.2


poem
po-em
poe-im

like larval caddis
turns stonesmith
each case a nuanced place of
graft and grit
treasures troved
a po-im builds upon itself
and, when well-crafted,
hoardes a wealth
of facets to reflect
to turn the eye, the mind, the
very breath direct-
-ly in its lungs while
hid way inside its smooth interior
are spaces shaded
far less showy
though know they're not one whit inferior

I like the solidity of this - the idea of poetry as a gritty, dirty workaday thing, with, if you're lucky, the integrity of a well-built stone wall. Nice.
 
I like the solidity of this - the idea of poetry as a gritty, dirty workaday thing, with, if you're lucky, the integrity of a well-built stone wall. Nice.

thanks, DGE :rose:

it's always a boost to know someone reads these and if i get a comment as well then i'm a happy bunny - easily pleased :D
 
labyrinthe

the memory has many rooms
and many rooms have many doors
and many people come and go
and go and come through doors and rooms

and if each door should have its key
each key sat neatly in its lock
how many hands would turn those keys
to lock the doors of memory?

how many hands would take those keys
the keys to rooms with doors now locked
how many then would keep those keys
how many keys would then be lost?

the memory has many rooms
and many doors though some are locked
memory hides some things away
and doors stayed closed although we knock





no.5 from dirty 30/30




edit: published in Persian Sugar in English Tea
 
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from Erotic Orogeny's Earth Day challenge

if only


every day saw empty skies
man-empty that is
and empty roads
beyond the pad of feet or chonk of hoof
and sat sweet on the seas
sailboats
oars at the ready
and satellites beamed energy
straight from the sun
warming homes and running 'things' that need the running done
by more modern ways than chandlers might accomplish or their
friends who know the ways of wrapping copper wires round and round ...

i know it's only dreaming
as the blue skies beckon me
to fall into their endless oceanic thrall
and i'd not want to step so far back that
hot water and the net were not
in step with my day to day to day - i'd be
quite frankly, awfully appalled
but think it a step forward
if the trade-off could be greener -
we can do more than merely dream of
sweet air, can't we, dreamer?
 
I just spent some time reading. Your poems sound lyrical to me. :)

well, i hope that's good then :D thanks, Angelinadreamer

i have to admit to being very fond of labyrinthe, the one above if only here - i wrote it last night on a scrap of paper just before i went to sleep and it still looked good to me this morning so i posted it here :D i think i was channeling someone - it's a little more like "proper poetry" than i normally write, lol.
 
well, i hope that's good then :D thanks, Angelinadreamer

i have to admit to being very fond of labyrinthe, the one above if only here - i wrote it last night on a scrap of paper just before i went to sleep and it still looked good to me this morning so i posted it here :D i think i was channeling someone - it's a little more like "proper poetry" than i normally write, lol.

Yes, this morning I just looked at those two, but I've read other poems you've written and thought you have a pretty open free verse pacing usually, kinda beat poetry in a way. If that makes sense lol, it does to me at the moment. :D
 
Yes, this morning I just looked at those two, but I've read other poems you've written and thought you have a pretty open free verse pacing usually, kinda beat poetry in a way. If that makes sense lol, it does to me at the moment. :D

so open i fall out sometimes ;)






pssst, don't tell anyone, but i just tend to write the stuff down then rationalise it all afterwards ... all that thinking and shit? i leave that to people who know what they're doing. i kinda feel my way more. *giggles*
 
7 of dirty 30 in 30

patrons all


and it's St George's Day
the red and white displays are
something
something in their shabby wonder
up the street and down again
shops parade their tawdry best
doors flung wide
open like eyes lining the pavements
bloodshot eyes eying up the sheep for fleecing
the pump of electronic tills
turning them over and over
turning them out as naked as they dare
wide-eyed and looking at the skies
hoping for dragons






should i make that last line 'hoping for dragons'? i wonder ....
 
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dammit


indolence


the cat suns herself
mouse-brown
pink tongue strokes glistening hairs

unconcerned with clever conversions
sunlight to vitamins
she stretches out full length

ringed tail's a sleepy snake
insolent claws prick leather
own the red, hot sofa
 
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