The sun rose above our heads
giving me moments to absorb its ointment
and notice your gentle breath coaxing teasing
and tugging the wandering flock of clouds now
distant as the tremble under your eyelid
settles me
to a peace
unknown in my war-torn dream-life
away from
home
- Nicholas Alexander
- 19 June 1992
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Thursday, November 5, 2009
The Cray
Barbs rooted in fray
thrashing for the very life
every last breath excerpted
despite aching muscles
old eyes bruises and
the ebbing tides urgent uncertainty
those finals strains
on its working flesh
most severe
demise by freedom
its final reach
brief as the open
mouth of tidal surge
form corrupted by jostling neigbours
fractured exoskeleton safety
set aside
relink the chain
mouths hang open
thrashing for the very life
every last breath excerpted
despite aching muscles
old eyes bruises and
the ebbing tides urgent uncertainty
those finals strains
on its working flesh
most severe
demise by freedom
its final reach
brief as the open
mouth of tidal surge
form corrupted by jostling neigbours
fractured exoskeleton safety
set aside
relink the chain
mouths hang open
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
The Girl in the Frame (revised)
Innocent stranger,
Indeed, you bloom around gills and fall
beneath the radar under a sky dripping with
illusion
the woman rocks her child to sleep
and a scarf drifts over the rubble of her features
her torn up life the ruins she now lives in
walls crumble as pepper dust drying out
the wheels grind away
the teeth she was left with
she invites her friends
in public but the chairs were
burnt by the soldiers for firewood
the night she lost her roof
the planes fly overhead
louder than before
the rain on mother's big bed
and the lines down the walls
where the water runs
she lives thus in the public mind
takes dogs out for walks
leads them out of the trap
and into the summer
the illusion kept her between
four lines guarding the
boundary of her thought
the gates of reason
closed until the return
of the florists and the bell ringer
Indeed, you bloom around gills and fall
beneath the radar under a sky dripping with
illusion
the woman rocks her child to sleep
and a scarf drifts over the rubble of her features
her torn up life the ruins she now lives in
walls crumble as pepper dust drying out
the wheels grind away
the teeth she was left with
she invites her friends
in public but the chairs were
burnt by the soldiers for firewood
the night she lost her roof
the planes fly overhead
louder than before
the rain on mother's big bed
and the lines down the walls
where the water runs
she lives thus in the public mind
takes dogs out for walks
leads them out of the trap
and into the summer
the illusion kept her between
four lines guarding the
boundary of her thought
the gates of reason
closed until the return
of the florists and the bell ringer
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Scars
Yesterday, a memory was being cultured in a jar
and feelings gathered around a bonfire
left and right they sing in hallways
the beer flows in rivers
lost sensibility
drawing away the years of fortitude
solemnity and grievance
dropped at the bus stop
the man holds gates open and
she smiles as a pancake summer
light drowns little words
in distance
her tricks that got your attention
voices of songs long dead that foist themselves
over anterior speculation
assumptions we had already guessed at
reserved tables nobody arrived at
the curtain closed but we already saw
the actor's collapse
sitting by himself on the bus
riding between states of journey
between these suburbs
laws pickled and held underwater
until signs of life
are less than memory
and feelings gathered around a bonfire
left and right they sing in hallways
the beer flows in rivers
lost sensibility
drawing away the years of fortitude
solemnity and grievance
dropped at the bus stop
the man holds gates open and
she smiles as a pancake summer
light drowns little words
in distance
her tricks that got your attention
voices of songs long dead that foist themselves
over anterior speculation
assumptions we had already guessed at
reserved tables nobody arrived at
the curtain closed but we already saw
the actor's collapse
sitting by himself on the bus
riding between states of journey
between these suburbs
laws pickled and held underwater
until signs of life
are less than memory
Monday, August 31, 2009
from ... MM
a slightly interesting bit cut from a great long horror shite wail that is otherwise remaining completely hidden
...
the apple sheets and the feds
the secrets and the lies
the things that you do not tell children
but carefully explain how they are
too young to understand
and then forever leave it at that
assimilate and learn through childhood
one was pregnant with ideas but adulthood
became a desert where challenge
is craved but you no longer appreciate it
no longer needing to replicate self
no need to expand the empire
and then late in the day
when its dusky and things start to feel
still you jump up and decide to start
the wheel turning again
to make it rotate and burn again
...
the apple sheets and the feds
the secrets and the lies
the things that you do not tell children
but carefully explain how they are
too young to understand
and then forever leave it at that
assimilate and learn through childhood
one was pregnant with ideas but adulthood
became a desert where challenge
is craved but you no longer appreciate it
no longer needing to replicate self
no need to expand the empire
and then late in the day
when its dusky and things start to feel
still you jump up and decide to start
the wheel turning again
to make it rotate and burn again
Saturday, August 29, 2009
making things
the very place that
the mice run
cooling wells of trait
making things
great things
we sing to each other
on the cooing nights
those paper umbrella'ed cups
fixing music together like vines
clasping to the side of the building
fixing it to the wall with fever
(before the chicken and eggs
arrived to consider, they had already invented philosophers)
I want to sing, sing, sing, sing
making things
golden bright things that children can pick from trees
that float in the sky
elephants and geese attending weddings
fish and dancing
the mice run
cooling wells of trait
making things
great things
we sing to each other
on the cooing nights
those paper umbrella'ed cups
fixing music together like vines
clasping to the side of the building
fixing it to the wall with fever
(before the chicken and eggs
arrived to consider, they had already invented philosophers)
I want to sing, sing, sing, sing
making things
golden bright things that children can pick from trees
that float in the sky
elephants and geese attending weddings
fish and dancing
Friday, August 28, 2009
The Other side
When it arrived in the post
he unwrapped it
held it up to the light
looked through it
it said in the ad that it would change his life
He shook it and tapped it with his finger
he took out a knife and scraped its surface
red spots appeared in that surface
red spots you could not see
he tapped it on a table and then
feeling terribly frustrated dropped it on the floor
and watched it bounce on the floor
scratching his head he picked it up
and placed it carefully into his eye socket
he unwrapped it
held it up to the light
looked through it
it said in the ad that it would change his life
He shook it and tapped it with his finger
he took out a knife and scraped its surface
red spots appeared in that surface
red spots you could not see
he tapped it on a table and then
feeling terribly frustrated dropped it on the floor
and watched it bounce on the floor
scratching his head he picked it up
and placed it carefully into his eye socket
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