Day Off
Easter. Just walk. Beautiful, this lake. Sit here
Beside me. Give a hand. Waited for you. Love
Easter, I love this home. Always God. Old home
Heartbeating green. Nature is love. I love God
No woman. In my life. No. No more. Pure love
Get clear. I delete all the poison. No more love
Woman. Sin. Baby. Needed. English lady. Love
Hmm. A European. I am. Despised. Deserted!
Hmm. The true love. But from. Of the deleted home
You killed or love, my love. – No love, no home
I am homeless. A soul lost its spirit. Bitumen
Did you drop me? Dusty streets. Demonic dreams
Following me. Dark romantic life. A love. The love
Your dream. Emma. Passed away. Our story. Way
Hmm. Dream is talking. About. The truth. You. Us
Hmm. Stay close. The way is dropped. Stop a love
Eternal. Wished
Passed. You, Me
You, I
Day Off
I needed
Your love
Emma
Honestly
Easter
Time
Far
Bye
The Invisible
Alone. Not important
Just live, live. Walk
Dark road. A crash
My death. Dark road
Feel the weapon on the path
I fell on bitumen. Dark walk
Leaved my love, oh love
I am not a hard mind. Soft
My heart is soft. Hope off
Dark. Invisible our love
Pistol. By the shadow
Shut. My love kills me
Death. Beautiful love
Died love. It was yours
Ours. Ours. Ours
My love. My love
You, you, and I
Invisible love
I realized this love
In death live ours
The invisible
Is yours
Hmm
Hmm
Give
Touch
Signed
By
Invisible
Love
God rests His feet on the face of the sky.
The face of the sky which stares at the face of the Earth.
There is flatness in the blueness of its face,
as its sapphire eyes gaze into the blue-green
or tawny oculense of the Earth.
The Earth and skies stare into each other’s eyes.
Noticing all the movements in the other’s side.
Movements of peoples and modern things, creatures
and those who inhabit the sky.
And as the sky and the Earth give momentary birth
to grandeur we see and wonders we have yet to see.
If this is an amazing place
that was created by an Amazing Grace,
imagining all that is cool.
(If the streets are paved with gold there
As on Earth a bitumen pool)
Imagine what Heaven is like
if the sky and the Earth are His footstool.
“Stampede: The Bitumen Blooms”
All the promises under the Sun
could never buy time, and
all that glistens on a wrist in a heartbeat succombs
peels away the romance
like tinfoil scraps, wrapped and cutting like razors
into the skin of what matters most
liked barbed wire
around a wrist bleeding
glistening golden brands like some kind of reigning crown
the so-called pulse of keeping up with the J’s
will never deliver the most precious intangible,
it burns inside out unseen
underneath the bitumen
the buried truth blooms
strange journeys crawl
and their animals released
from the cage,
eventually,
stampede;
sacrifices are made.
Candide Diderot. ‘25
I go out into the bright morning,
into metaphor and the clear, autumn air,
hoping to find it, perhaps around
a corner or further down the street
where the bitumen meets
and dissolves into a panoramic
view, a portal -
but it's never there.
I listen out for it in the pause
between waves, silent places
and in the quiet lee of myself.
Sometimes when I close
my eyes I can almost hear
its presence ease softly
into a sound -
but it's never really there.
I have prayed for it to appear
in holy places, in tall forests,
running streams and deep
in the solitude of stony deserts.
I've searched for it in the stars,
in the dervish dance of galaxies
and in the smallest particle -
but it's not there.
I have sought it in suffering,
in the ecstasies of love
and in all the threads that go
together to weave a life.
I thought it would be near
when the world around me
was hurt and crying out -
but it was not there.
I go out into the cold evening,
into the dark, pitiless air
still hoping to find it just beyond
the night, a few short steps
away, through a shadow,
past a fence and the perimeter
of me, to where there is nothing -
but Being itself.
In Africa's heart, a giant lies,
Nigeria, blessed with riches that surprise,
Petroleum, gold, and califonium's might,
Lead, iron, bitumen, and limestone's sight.
But amidst this wealth, a paradox we find,
Lovely people suffer, while leaders' greed entwines,
Abject penury, a constant, gnawing fate,
While politicians milk public funds, an unborn generation's weight.
Foolishness, indeed, to hoard and not to share,
As children, women, men, and youth die, with no one to care,
In stampedes, they scramble for crumbs from philanthropists' hands,
A nation's shame, in every corner, where food is shared, they stand.
Who will rescue us from predators, who prey and exploit?
From leaders, who, with impunity, our future destroy and loot?
Of late, tens of children and women died, in a desperate bid to eat,
Their cries, a haunting echo, that our conscience cannot beat.
Women wake, with hopelessness, their children's future unsure,
Are our youth lazy? Our men idle? No, their daily toil, a story untold,
Their income, a meager sum, that cannot meet their demands,
A giant of Africa? Ah, what a mockery, what a sham, what a stand!
To write some rules that check a text
to posit if it’s human:
a bit like Noah building arks
while lacking in bitumen.
For what’s the pitch, the angle here…
see plagiarism ceased?
To write a code to find fake odes:
that’s some recursive beast!
Life-Changing Love
Life changing, but where is the power, fatigue is the burden
Suffering, miserable life, affliction, painful memories, past
Oh, where is love? Love is just a tale, a fairy tale, a big fake
Life-changing is not possible, my life is in beton and bitumen
My love brought me into this living-dead life. Oh, lovely love
I needed her, just her, no one else just my amazing love. Her
My life has changed. I don’t trust them anymore. Stay alone
No, I don’t stay alone. God will send a true love, a lovely gift
She will be the Life-Changing Love. I love her. Comes light.
She!
.
'tiz
not mine dialect
'tiz the thick this
coffee
past mine lips
it slid
thick
slowly
unto the back uv
that thar
dangly thing
in my throat
too thick to
spit
i choked
yarrrr
at three bucks
the cup
no room for
cheeze cake
mine gullet
stuffed to mine teeth
the coffee
the waitress
the pitch
gulp
bitumen
greasy grog
spoon
yuck
I-re-le!
Home of bitumen,
Where men of tricks lay;
Born zeal with its women,
Like a blazing sun of a summer day.
Bulky ute voyeur selects sleek sporty stalion
Driving by, supersedes her oversized sedan
Wide wheel arches have Porche comparison
Voracious engine's enthuse easily enchants
Large car cast dispelled by lacklustre Calais
Original conjur 370Z parked beside boring
Low leg swing exclusive slide in, magic valet
Over revved start stabs adrenalin assuring
Our dear Dara, choice contacted in December
Available last minute to test drive his beast
Black gloss road boss, enlarged 'lungs' terror
Capable crazy bitumen baby, tester pleased
Ultimate Man concurs, the amenable outcome
Keys in her hand a few days after, aura froze
Couldn't imagine huge generosity from anyone
Racing car reap, increase on what she sows
Merry go round roads, another showoff slotted
Silver pole stabilised glides in Surfers cycle
Crosslane carousel onlookers, briefly besotted
By hot hoof nimble Nissan race horse style
28th March
Too Great of a Man
Neck pulsating, close shave shines over whiskers
Stiff collar pressure, raced anticipation simmers
Key twist intrigue spurs engine's orange rage
Needle throws redline on wide torque gauge
Jaw rigid, fingers grip cockpit lethal leather wheel
G-force grabs chest, insolent beast thrusts surreal
Monster inflamed incredulously adheres to tar
Salivating lion's ravenous rumble has zero par
Ripping up bitumen, sardonic responsive tyres rivet
Road shred's exhausted under rocket fume exhibit
Airtight capsule, caramel cow hide hugs tamer
Eardrums hum, a hundred mile Hyundai shamer
Brawny tawny gold, hot bonnet chrome flashdance
Purrs her melting eclair aerodynamic performance
Pride's pilot elevated by moorish horizon hunts
Hungry headlights still prey with stealthy stunts
30th July 2022
Written for Contest: Joy
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Upon the earth, they wandered in unrest.
They spoke one tongue, and even the same words.
Then packing up, broke camp and traveled west
and moved in groups: nomads, all bunched in herds.
They found a plain in Shinar, fairly placed,
“Come, let us make some bricks and bake them well.”
Bitumen served as mortar, as the paste
To raise a tower, and in the heavens dwell.
“For we shall build a city of renown,
far better than across the earth dispersed.”
To see the tower built, the LORD came down;
He promptly saw their actions were reversed.
“Behold, they are a people with one voice,
And this is just the start of what they’ll choose.
With nothing hard, the world will be their oyster.
Come, let us thwart and baffle and confuse.”
The LORD thus sent them on their way that hour;
The earth, make their dominion, occupy.
With babble-speak, it’s hard to raise a tower,
But words aren’t what you need to multiply!
(from Genesis 11)
saucy smoke smirks
gulping gaunt lurch
puking punctured bitumen
blurs bleeding bountifully
filling cloud's peeper
with whooshing phlegm
taunted track clothes
fiery ferments: glows
skate speed blows
voluptuous velocity's vibe
into dances drives
sassy soles thrive
mushy thoughts merges
speed, emotions surge.
'20:02:21:18:29
“50 Words for Poe: Lillith”
Lillith was a cat on a hot tin roof
all coiled up ready to spring
Cat on a hot tin roof
dancing bare feet on a bare floor, cold bed without springs, locked in her own mind, a locked door
you could feel the heat rising off her
like heat when rain hits blistering bitumen, steam slowly raising the atmosphere, electric, charged
She smelt like heat and rain
and fresh cut silver grass and lemonade
Her mind was like the ocean
She rolled her hips as she swayed in her tight skirt
bare feet in a room next to Terror
In Room No.9
Lillith, kind of entranced in her own fire, wired
Turns her back on shadows
in the mirror
Terror’s knocking on her wall
She turns up the music in her mind, higher
She was New
after all
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
https://youtu.be/dhGETVlOM0Y
“Melts in the wall.
And I
Am the arrow,
The dew that flies
Suicidal, at one with the drive
Into the red
Eye, the cauldron of morning.”
“We are all living in an illusion and mistaking it for reality.”
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