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I'm tied by a golden string
such sweet bondage that knows no restraint
windows open to the spring, ribbons lead away
each hue a path to far flung connections
cats cradle
I'm entangled
 
Dear smithpeter,

It's been too long, and now even longer as I responded to open windows, binged my way a little further down paths long laid; a timestamp would be ludicrous now play.
read back, read back
see I, Eye, tell me contextual secrets
that fall further than sight, then,
stop playing
write a song in whispers dear
sing it in my ear
and all night long
I'll drift along in dreams only I c'n hear
..
did you ever hit that place, smithpeter, when everything goes out of line,
metrical impossibilities like a bump in the road
give me smooth pavement n no embedded groove to groan your tyres
fin, I swim
 
Happy New Year, dears
hope it finds you with lots to do
to keep you amused
a soft place to lay your head
arms to keep you safe in place
in the hearts of loved ones
 
I wish I knew a foreign language
to adequately convey my shubly swaze
of amazement when I graze at you
you burrittofie me
 
Amid the drooping decorations,
a tree still flashing and twinkling.
the ancient repeats and films
and the first summer holiday advert,
I sit and wonder ....... why the blues?
New year, exciting new beginnings
right, and the black dog
crawls forward inch by inch,
ready to pounce and drag me down.
 
big cats, albinism, and genius

the exotic
are always in demand
for their hides
their body parts
their
shock-value

an exotic mind
is prized as high
but under wraps
is a protected species
when it steps out
into the glare
it can be a case of
burn or be burnt
 
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Let us not go overboard
get giddy, burp loudly
sunrise two minutes earlier
sunset two minutes after
this next year, now here
whatever. You make of it
the second is the real holiday
in this part and parcel
chuck key, calendar, digital timepiece
are up for regift, while
sundial, wind vane, and magnetic poles
shadow and echo
never
ever
 
so whata if she says, "I swallow" ?
bitter pills do down the hatch
religiously, as prescribed, routinely
frequently between yawns.

now, if she confesses
she treats it as slow food
well, that's food for thought
that's another matter and energy
equation
 
Screw top, half gallon
vin ordinare down under
alcohol makes injustice a little less painful
numb me
 
never much liked arithmatti... arrithma... sums
their cold elegance
indefatigable honesty
elusive reckoning when lateral
thinking's a non-starter

maybe it's their orderliness
that makes me rebel
 
damn
i should have kept quiet
injustice is bitter
he'll distance
on a red slide of sheen
i hope fay friends
keep watch tonight
and his bed finds him
and his stomach doesn't sour
and
red doesn't fuel but floats
 
Conversation with a Series

Blue Man is here beside me, drinking good red wine,
tells me the corn must be watered no matter how steep the slope,
wet the season.

Yellow man is there, piping frustration and loneliness
kicked back on mail bags, wishing he had a drink
from the jug Blue spills so freely.

Red Man is lost in Baja Tennessee, sullen,
no longer tall as a wall, shakes not the shaman's rattle
after Jesus found him, told him he was a heathen.

Drummer beats and speaks from down the street.
Bada boom baby, pass the bottle, break out the dominoes,
have a safe trip Blue, lighten up Yellow, Red.

None know if they be Fay or Spirit
not I, not you beyond the page
waiting for the band to play
 
Blue Man is here beside me, drinking good red wine,
tells me the corn must be watered no matter how steep the slope,
wet the season.

Yellow man is there, piping frustration and loneliness
kicked back on mail bags, wishing he had a drink
from the jug Blue spills so freely.

Red Man is lost in Baja Tennessee, sullen,
no longer tall as a wall, shakes not the shaman's rattle
after Jesus found him, told him he was a heathen.

Drummer beats and speaks from down the street.
Bada boom baby, pass the bottle, break out the dominoes,
have a safe trip Blue, lighten up Yellow, Red.

None know if they be Fay or Spirit
not I, not you beyond the page
waiting for the band to play
i love this :rose:
 
So here and shiver;
cold not the least of my chills,
nor temperature a worry,
for the fire is hot and contextual wood
abundant.

Here so many logarithms stacked
close to hand, perhaps that's the problem,
log jam, looking for that constant e
that makes me a natural man.
 
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