"Consider Icarus, pasting those sticky wings on, testing that strange little tug at his shoulder blade... Who cares that he fell back to the sea?" (Anne Sexton)
The evening wore a blue jacket. Your voice dressed itself for a long journey.
There are a thousand places to die. You chose the sea because it remembered you.
A dead bird, fallen from eternal flight; a small capsized body- the secret of its search.
Wings moved air, carried grief through bones of yearning...
traced lines of the missing piece as if you had known it.
You kept yourself indifferent; the mystery of interrupted light ... blind falcon
Thank you Nobius. I am trying to to be less HEAVY and obvious in philosophical content but it don't come easy! Also, I hope I am not clogging up the creative space as I am a bit too prolific. Sorry! I really do hope to see more of others works here! The blog is Outlasting Moths btw. Thanks again.
I like shopping in Asda stalking the bag lady shuffling down Bride Street supping Dutch export collapsing in gutters scaring my reflection daring to be a dickhead tipping a wink to the lunatic fringe on ward role play with bi-polar patients making gags 'bout all weather tellytubbies a bit of bully, tossing double top to finish off. and walking in tandem with women on tow paths.
Dogging at Rufford lock watching the Linnets at Vickie park dancing at Barons with Burscough Billets metaphorically vomiting on the queen mothers' headstone in her crypt of remembrance at Windsor and filling my boots on the slopes of Paranassus with laurel stems woven in a crown I make believe my own;
fantasy gifts of Minerva, Mnemosyne, Appollo and Ogma having a party and letting me know
"We are ones who make glitter and red carpet treatment
turned Bob Dylan to Homer
rock the souls of Elvis, John Liam and Noel
so go tell the world of gods whose secrets unlocked reveal an oasis of monkeys and beatles day-dreaming you too will join them here beneath Partholan skies."
radiate sentence "fold, everything" cancellation inside vain sentence (s) admittedly it who stops foot above through concrete line sawn a visually well chosen time closed on opened in "representations, that one faced, closed fist ternary closing left vision excess (seen) door holds" (cracked one to long one same line) time that other (ways) did'
I have no stamina for lyric let's catalogue what we have. In the book a man is lying in bed drifting in & out of sleep, listening to a radio station, voices & dreams.
It is hot here and it is hot there.
A fly drones above my open legs; the fly remembers with me fleshy fullness between my legs and above, all the weight crushing my breasts back into me. I am a boy now.
I think these things, remember them, heave hot & sink, where drowsy, voluptuous feelings are cut short by the format.
I have no stamina for lyric the fly has settled somewhere. I heard a dog growling outside so I turned on the porch light & stood there folding socks. The dog was next door but sounded much closer.
Nobius, I do have a blog "Outlasting Moths". Thank you so much for your supportive comments! I enjoy all of the works posted here and hope to view more!
These keys that I tap for sonic delight and literary sunlight produce packets of ancient lore covered by cobwebs of thought-bore I blow away the colluding threads with the breath of my dreams So do you see them now? Lilac-colored tales from the digital entrails of the cyberoptic underground
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