Friday, 29 January 2016

TO QUOTE HERZOG AND HANK



  its 
collective murder out there
and
if
we
knew
what 
to
do 
with
that
we 
would shine
  and
  the
world could properly begin

from adoxoblog.wordpress.com

Thursday, 28 January 2016

OLD POTATO



theres
an
old
old
potato
at the back of the veg drawer

soft 
wrinkled like bath finger
and
weakly sprouting small nothings

  hello old potato 

i say 
sick in the thick morning leftovers
of
a
night still congealing
  
  you
  remind
  me of me 
  these days i couldnt power
  a
  lightbulb
  anymore
  than
  you

from tippyandfriends.com

Wednesday, 27 January 2016

RESIDUE




now is now
then
its
gone

sitting here in a workshirt
  crinkled and creased
  like i pulled it from a dogs arse
  i
search 
for the glow
in
our
residue

now is now - now is HOT
then
its
gone - cooled
  and 
  tucked into diarys / stashed in the ice box
  with 
the spilled peas
and
tomorrows
casserole

from onlinestrategy.ca

Tuesday, 26 January 2016

DRUG TALK




codeine calls temazepam a lightweight

temazepam calls codeine heavy handed

i
call
them
both
old friends i miss

and
i
wish
they
could get along


from society6.com

Monday, 25 January 2016

A GOOD MORNING



  4 
  pairs 
  of 
blue jeans
are
strung on the line
over the side fence
behind
the
red berry bush

  small 
  birds 
  are eating
under
the 
sky - a hazy bruise healing 
  torn
  with 
  shards of blue enamel 

i write about this scene
its cosy back yard vibe
  and
  it
  occurs
  to
  me - Monday 11.07 AM

that i got 
       all 
       i 
       need
and realistically 
       want

       except for health 

  and 
  i 
  am 
  working on that
  right
  now

  watching 
small birds eat
on 
the 
red berry bush


from commons.wikimedia.org

Friday, 22 January 2016

COMMUNICATION




his love
is
a
paw of claws

bites on my chin

a wet nose in my nostril

  and 
when he reaches out to paw my leg in passing
wearing his kitten face and wide kitten eyes
i
have
no
idea
what he wants
most of the time

long 
may 
our 
miscommunication 
continue



Thursday, 21 January 2016

MEMORIES AT THE FRONT DOOR




the woman in mismatched sweats
stuffs 
the
phone book 
thru the door

( so slim now
  it
  will
  stay
  forever
  in 
  its 
  plastic coat )

i recognise her from the mall
15 
or 
20
years 
ago

we sold film tie-in plastic tat
and
flat-pack bedroom units

i remember her almost divorce
and
breast cancer scare

her hangovers and her tears

but
i
stay silent behind the front door
when i could have done anything

because

i cannot think of anything
for her
to
remember 
about me 


Alex-Queral-Phone-Book-enstein_580-0
from justsomething.co phone boook portraits by alex querl

Wednesday, 20 January 2016

THE COLD BITCH OF BETWEEN TIMES



  park -
the inbetween time of late PM
  i
see
its tall grass
and
torn cricket crease
have
forgotten me / forgotten my memories

  park 
  is
indifferent in winter dusk
empty / insolent with space

  i
was
always
a
friend 
in the dog-walking kite-flying days
and
in the beer-popping ludicrous midnights

and
the
port 
lights the river mist
into
a future glow
like
a
sci-fi disaster
low
over
the
the broken fingers of trees

  i
stick
my
gum
on
a
traffic
post
to prove that i am here

from phys.org

Tuesday, 19 January 2016

LITTLE BOATS




  and
i have changed up my fuel again
to 
run 
this carbon frame cleaner again
and
after 
the 
AM kitchen moves 
are all done again
i
fold 
my 
poem bops into paper boats
  and
  light
  matches
  in
  the
  bow
  and 
    send them down
      the
        electric
          river

to test chance and reason


from saltairephotography.blogspot

DUM-DUM SPACE




  crawling 
  in 
  the 
  dum-dum space 
between the always sky
and
the nowhere land
the everyday paints stains 
on my 
hand-me-down clothes
like
camo




from britmodeller.com

Monday, 18 January 2016

DREAMS




  dreams 
put a hex on the morning
and 
clutter my sane tasks
  impossibly
  mad

from sidawson.org pic by cesar t sanchez

Friday, 15 January 2016

SUBMITTING POEMS



send them off now
with
a
click and tap
into
electric air

paper clips rusting in the chipped ashtray

send them off now
to
heathens
or
lovers
or
the halfway houses
who
write back 
with

click and tap
thru
the electric air

  saying
they really liked one solid line

send them off now anyway
  otherwise
  its
  just
  talking to myself 
  in 
  a  
  silent way

from jeremycantorpoet.com

Thursday, 14 January 2016

COLLECTIVE MURDER



  its 
  collective murder out here

said    
the        
film       to
maker      his
           muse

meaning for him
  the 
  jungle
  was 
  never 
  erotic

  its 
  collective murder everywhere

i
said       in
           a
           different
           century

meaning
  mini-beast brutality 
  under 
  soft british grass
  
  industrial farming

  the madness of roads
  
  and
  governments
  willing
  folly

from prisonbooks.info by paul lachine

Wednesday, 13 January 2016

OFFCUT POPS



1.

the sci-fi noise
in the space-age bathroom
is
only
my
ancient
guts


2.

the blinds are open
so i write quickly
as
soon
it
will
suddenly
be
dark


3.

  without 
  drugs
i became horribly aware
of the PHYSICAL FACT
of
the
earths-solid-girth
  pressing 
  upwards 
  against my boots


4.

  no 
  matter 
where the Grim Fuckers
washed up in adulthood
as
children
they
all
painted
autumn
scenes

from kidactivities.net

Tuesday, 12 January 2016

DIM-GLOW SIGHTS



  today
the
clouds
have
somewhere urgent to be
and
they
rain to lighten their load

  i
watch the sky from the window
  while
the washing machine hums domestic
cleaning
food
from 
my clumsy clothes

i think -
  but
  maybe
  theyre
  running from something . . ?

and
i
wonder
what
dim-glow english sights
they
may
have
seen

from fotservis.typepad.com

Monday, 11 January 2016

RIPs



  so
Dan Fante had shit-brown-eyes
and
Buckowski had a HUGE left ball

i
have . . . envy

  i remember reading
Kissed by A Fat Waitress
on
the 
toilet
hanging
onto
the
steel mobility rail in a cold sweat

  i remember reading 
The Days Run Away Like Wild Horses
and
thinking
ANYTHING
can
be 
poetry

  and
  now
Bowie and Lemmy 
are 
spoiled for drummers
in enriched Valhalla 
i
ball my poems up into the teapot

and
turn
on
the 
gas
from pinterest.com

Friday, 8 January 2016

FUN POP




spel stuff rong sometimes

i mean
fuk it - and anyway it wakes us up

makes
us
stop
tak notis

and
think


from techslides.com

Thursday, 7 January 2016

RIP DAN FANTE / I HID IN MOOCH



  in
  the
terrifying gap-trap 
my
lunch hour had become
i
read
Mooch

  in
  the
howling fantasies 
of
a
repeating 3 AM breakdown
i
read
Mooch

in the bare bustle of hospital canteen
and
in the stale bed of mornings night
i
HID
in 
Mooch
  
  to not be caught
in
the
slipstreams out there

  to beat the forces
  and
  the
  knots they tied
  
  deep 
  inside

  from skylightbooks.podbean.com

Wednesday, 6 January 2016

2015 CLEAROUT POPS - TERRORISED !



1.

  those 
happy 
helpless
hoards
busy
breeding 
dim sprogs of light
  are
  government stuffed / undervalued

  and

  opiated by plastics / production line pop
into comfy flatscreen holes
and
  daily
  terrorised
  by
  BOGOF news

  that chews 
  the salt out of their earth


2.

  i
  am
over-chilled
under-rushed
terrorised
and
sick
with
nowhere to go to
  but
  happy
  to
daydream all day
on
the
sofa
of 
supper and bedtime


3.

never completely awake
never completely asleep
  i
  am
  a misty dusk / wet kettle steam
terrorised
by
strange dreams - epic journeys
  and
  their residue
  that remains
with me all the day
  
  like
  guilt


4.

youre all in a rush

  restless

  itchy feet

terrorised by your own transport
  only
  taking
  your
  tired
  eyes
  between
  the similar rooms
of
shits
and
meals



  from discoveryuk.com

Tuesday, 5 January 2016

2015 CLEAR OUT POPS



1.

  it
  is
familiarity / habit 

    (both cobalt blue)

and
my
daily doses - pills / love / light

    (scarlet and gas-fire orange)

  that
  keeps
  me 
  quiet 
out on this
alien ledge
  where
  artists
  wait in rags

    (stripes and checks and black-white)


2.

poetry-

pissing in gales
monsoon weeping

    or

  an
  angry
  ape
ripping thesauruses / bibles
into
Orphans Widows Wardead

  in front of the mirror with rusty corners
  in
  a
library washroom


3.

cars at 7 pm
mumble and rumble-shout
  8
  tight
  syllables
over the train track crossing 


4.

  office buildings
  glass and steel layer cakes
shine
all night
for
the 
ghosts of the laid-off

and
  fart out the sweat-stench of the working day
  in
  hot
  steam 

     billowing

into the security eyes




from waviness.wordpress.com




Monday, 4 January 2016

SUPERMARKET CAFE POPS



1.

  the 
  old stone church tower 
  up on the marsh hill
is
always
aroused 

  pushing its godhead
up
over
the
shopping cement sprawl 

  that
diminishes
its symbol
  but never its 
  hard
  architecture


2.

  never looking up
are
the
mice men 
rat boys
and eyebrow girls

  busy
  with
  plastic
  and fries

  never looking up 


3.

under 
steel and glass
i sip my coffee
and
i count my pains
  in
  the
  indoor muted hubbub
  the
human highway has become


3.

in a fuckchain foodhouse 
i
eat a sandwich / tastes of packing foam
and
write
some more tesco-ftown-meh-drek
thats
like
sitting doing awkward shitting 

  laying behind me
  a 
  dump 
  that still itches deep
  when 
  i am
  done


 from photolibra.com