some poems by jim bellamy
THE HOSPICE by jd bellamy
(after Philip Larkin)
(after Philip Larkin)
One year to a hospice
This girl was conscripted,
where flowers hung on the wall
and skyless vases stung.
This girl was conscripted,
where flowers hung on the wall
and skyless vases stung.
since she would soon be led
down to her father's bed,
they let her stay
where nothing was really said.
I don't know what was shared
in that hospice-hour; just
prittle-prattle, i think...
then one day she vied
for a place among the screens;
among the pictures of her mother; in
the dying place she'd gleaned. for
in that hospice-hour; just
prittle-prattle, i think...
then one day she vied
for a place among the screens;
among the pictures of her mother; in
the dying place she'd gleaned. for
moments, she spoke, but
nobody pried to see
how she had paused and tried
for a pew amidst the dead. i sprang
five leagues from my chair. where
this girl chose to lie, her hand
starved a place in her father's bed and
stoked a dread time along
each sheet of cancerous thread. so
for a pew amidst the dead. i sprang
five leagues from my chair. where
this girl chose to lie, her hand
starved a place in her father's bed and
stoked a dread time along
each sheet of cancerous thread. so
summer had nearly ended and
the place where her father lay sponged
down to the quick
summoned up the shoots of winter.
where the world lay wrapped in fists
i sensed her childhood leave,
her place of sleeping stunned
and her wedding dress conceived.
..
i sensed her childhood leave,
her place of sleeping stunned
and her wedding dress conceived.
..
copyright
1998
..
MENTAL NOCTURNE (after Philip Larkin)
by jd bellamy
Now bright tablets lie dead upon screamed air,
As digress foamed rivers in raping rolled grind,
And massing sleep-driven breath is vein-visual
Of all the folded doctor's wrinkled flowers
That arise in confuted fusing white-coats now.
As digress foamed rivers in raping rolled grind,
And massing sleep-driven breath is vein-visual
Of all the folded doctor's wrinkled flowers
That arise in confuted fusing white-coats now.
As from some syringed border filled and rare:
And from the writhing objects of the spooned,
A gross and ghastly light spills from the moon
And filters through faces every hour
From the vast; this starless, swinging tower
Blown down, forlorn upon a Maylit breeze,
And from the writhing objects of the spooned,
A gross and ghastly light spills from the moon
And filters through faces every hour
From the vast; this starless, swinging tower
Blown down, forlorn upon a Maylit breeze,
Must break as we sit in these harp-strung trees
And minds will stop;- the thread of hatred cast
Sun jittering, looming to its shended end:
And minds will stop;- the thread of hatred cast
Sun jittering, looming to its shended end:
Vain nippers are parodies, our looted pasts
Beshriven with the turning of bended waves,
And this dark night, enberried with the throng
Of bees that burn and endragon nude hair,
Must storm the child enbaubled in the grave;
Our leastmost world, a killer of lost years.
.....
Of bees that burn and endragon nude hair,
Must storm the child enbaubled in the grave;
Our leastmost world, a killer of lost years.
.....
copyright 1999.
.....
A MOTHER WRITES TO MISCARRIAGE by jd bellamy 1991
cupboardised, my dear, before and after, to date,
cherries have communed among the tired
windfalls; each scarce, each a kind awoken before
their abrupt stalks have lightened to survival.
demands are rosaries in them, who, had they sought religion,
would only have heard the huge between here and
nebula, squeezing tight beneath their
seats. as prayers for monsoons in Mongolia,
they answer the earth with a rigid sanctity
restless to grin and spread a dumb marshland,
cherries have communed among the tired
windfalls; each scarce, each a kind awoken before
their abrupt stalks have lightened to survival.
demands are rosaries in them, who, had they sought religion,
would only have heard the huge between here and
nebula, squeezing tight beneath their
seats. as prayers for monsoons in Mongolia,
they answer the earth with a rigid sanctity
restless to grin and spread a dumb marshland,
outward, idiot, aborted. how we think of them
does nothing to slow their immensity. they shall descend
in every weather. slack with aching jaws. slack with dwelt
meditations of incompetence. hoarse thinking voices,
stiff through pictures that persuade that Absolute Feeling
which unknowingly stems from a brother or a cousin
pushing swings in the dark a hate you ago.
does nothing to slow their immensity. they shall descend
in every weather. slack with aching jaws. slack with dwelt
meditations of incompetence. hoarse thinking voices,
stiff through pictures that persuade that Absolute Feeling
which unknowingly stems from a brother or a cousin
pushing swings in the dark a hate you ago.
for a few, life is not sensed. but most live
in life
and most sing the few
to lift and lighten as a life, so writing
that you are is no betrayal of a decalogue
nor a libel in the Common Law of Man. but, remember,
dropping, communed among the tired, before birth
is unripe to unripeness, and must distress in man
the warrior who seeks out the scarce and immense
as the winds scour the cupboards
springcleaned amd shore-accorded
to the strickenings of female loves
and most sing the few
to lift and lighten as a life, so writing
that you are is no betrayal of a decalogue
nor a libel in the Common Law of Man. but, remember,
dropping, communed among the tired, before birth
is unripe to unripeness, and must distress in man
the warrior who seeks out the scarce and immense
as the winds scour the cupboards
springcleaned amd shore-accorded
to the strickenings of female loves
And thereon the
difference done by you
is unique and fitful my heart,
for you must choose to flourish in trees
as nativity's forgiven martyr-
is unique and fitful my heart,
for you must choose to flourish in trees
as nativity's forgiven martyr-
*
....
The bestiary by jd bellamy 1997
(after Philip Larkin’s ‘Plymouth’)
The bestiary by jd bellamy 1997
(after Philip Larkin’s ‘Plymouth’)
A box of claws, a box of skins,
An ivory ringed pendant in a case,
An egg, a hat wrought out from pelt,
A museum room of an extinct race,
These lie about the tomb, and daily shine
Where deadly hunters set forth for the night.
An ivory ringed pendant in a case,
An egg, a hat wrought out from pelt,
A museum room of an extinct race,
These lie about the tomb, and daily shine
Where deadly hunters set forth for the night.
If they had any wings, any life,
A living scent, all this has gone;
They are no more than terminants, or dyes,
No longer living or calling to the sun,
Burned useless; shivers of heaven,
Shivers of love,
Once shrouded them,
But were no understood.
No longer living or calling to the sun,
Burned useless; shivers of heaven,
Shivers of love,
Once shrouded them,
But were no understood.
The planners that use them rise upon a slick
And turn within the bestiary of graves,
Unnoticed, fit with a seminary of sick
Listed lifeless trades. Let them be
As fated as the jungles they forsook,
Ill and dribbled in eternity and stave;
Cysted, rifled, cold and stifled
As each of the animals god saves.
And turn within the bestiary of graves,
Unnoticed, fit with a seminary of sick
Listed lifeless trades. Let them be
As fated as the jungles they forsook,
Ill and dribbled in eternity and stave;
Cysted, rifled, cold and stifled
As each of the animals god saves.
...
FULL VIEW OF A POET by jd bellamy 1999
The poet lays it on with the mallow.
he weighs, or so they say, as much as
a thousand million men.
his eyes are closed, his lashes staved
with a smile of verisimilitude.
he weighs, or so they say, as much as
a thousand million men.
his eyes are closed, his lashes staved
with a smile of verisimilitude.
such weight of sight and seeing
is
so set to death as if to seem wrong.
he was less of a life, more like a fist
closed around the nailing nut
of so much verbiage.
so set to death as if to seem wrong.
he was less of a life, more like a fist
closed around the nailing nut
of so much verbiage.
i sent the poet reeling.
i did not feel guilty for his dead guise.
walking on graves, i spent his rise
and fall of linguid words
as if i did not care.
i did not feel guilty for his dead guise.
walking on graves, i spent his rise
and fall of linguid words
as if i did not care.
he was so dead. just so much
can be made out of poetry.
his last cigar had smokily gone.
he had become a world
of burnt out ecstasies.
can be made out of poetry.
his last cigar had smokily gone.
he had become a world
of burnt out ecstasies.
too
dead and gone for words. his
was a suppression of a rhyme,
rather than something made
to lift the shroudsail wider.
the gash in the page was spilt.
was a suppression of a rhyme,
rather than something made
to lift the shroudsail wider.
the gash in the page was spilt.
poets must have cold hearts - don't
even begin to give the devil flowers.
their blood i as cold as a penury, their
roasting minds as freezing as a dread
and evil century.
even begin to give the devil flowers.
their blood i as cold as a penury, their
roasting minds as freezing as a dread
and evil century.
his was a mad death whose distinct
passion lay laden with his power.
i stared at his grave for so very long
that everything i'd ever known
flew suddenly like a cross.
passion lay laden with his power.
i stared at his grave for so very long
that everything i'd ever known
flew suddenly like a cross.
....
THE WARD? by jd bellamy 1998
(After Philip Larkin's unfinished poem, The Dance)
Madness, sadness, scabs - all bad things, boy: far
too bad to be diluted by 'The Ward';
that simple, fiddle-browed pretence at each
atom of the thoughts that really....' But contusive speech
slows at my equally contusive brain,
that in the sharpened rivers sees
the games in maddened houses, maddened ruts.
Bright handles purr in the apple trees.
The sun is cold. The cities are touch dry.
Syringe. Tablet. Needs.
All this, simply to foam like a star?
Half-killed, half-companioned by the drill,
I let myself by shambled spirit be haled
out across the skies and divots of the dawn.
No pretence now. Hard scars harp round the scorn
and man each reproach. The night has almost failed,
and the quaint rubbing pliancy -
some hand I have been mad enough to veil -
disclaims me from an upstairs window and comes
more than madly into my lure:
Mad, bad territory...
And, once more, the nurses, doctors, still
in their same old coats, charm-ballooned and chained,
the floors vibrating with alarm, the
not you, not me on every lip. I edge amongst the boys
towards a surface and, lacking lividity, poise
on its pledge - serviced, demured and calmed
by every tablet and injection,
emitting low squeaks and gleaning back to view
the whole melee of madness shifting, crowding -
and, with my peeple in the upper skies, lose.
Why cry? the scene is writing and loud.
Assemble socially, be entertained
by my sitting in this dress, in the rooms like these,
saying I cannot think - saying more about when
I could Really drink stone, or, in bed,
listening to the voices - be led
off into the shaking looks and stares, and then
beyond the glistening hands, where glazed faces
swagger into violence at my sitting there,
and your lies greet me midst foreign spaces,
and your charms are disparate,
and I wish entirely for sanity
and moments on remand, by which the stacked
faces might move. Clumsily, though, as
something starts up, your look's embarrassing
and forever lustful: everything
I look for is deception - the red ploys,
the clad-eyed girls, and through the doors,
the spinning plates of dinners. Grown
less real than ever, this sudden place
strikes me at once as a stage-name, or
a wasteground hard to tell truths by; I
feel the impact, glib and raw,
of a tremendous yearning, answering back
as if I had no questions. In the drugged
and snarled muse of the moment, beneath
cover after cover, I permit a few movements
of my head; you suggest eating, but
my chest is full of food, quickens and tightens
at the destinies of souls, at
each croft descrying of love. For
something acutely local - me
as I can only be - has taken you down
into something acutely transitory, like
the slightest touch, or impulse, or
deflection of the mind. Why
we act eternally,
why we snatch and cry, is
not the reason for the fingers, but
the reason we slacken together. I
am caught by your tears; they stand
effusive and lovely, where the band
strikes up another tune, and they,
midst tempos doffed, take small things
by the hand and fly. I wonder
whether this sudden place is all; I
wonder why we die. Then
I creel back to the stars, where they've
surmised that anyone thinking is dead, and
find you and a cup-of-tea shrinking and
casting off survival. Lost in music, then,
you look at me, as if bereft, and
outline me with sharpening altruisms, so
yearning, full and fine, that I
cannot keep my step. This tense
elation is a turn-off, though,
it means so little to the voices, and,
localised in half-way houses, is
better of forgotten. Couples
now arrive, leave gaps and cross
words with angry strangers, falter
and cleave away. I lean forwards, lest
I go on swimming, and souse my throat
with imminent smiles. How right
it is to look away, I do not know, yet
here I stop and pray, and let
you have your innocent guilt bewrayed
to switching partners in a stabbed, bad set:
how useless it is to invite
the madman, how sad
to see my own life again! I ought to
go, be gone, get going; instead
I let doctors tell me how they are
and are going to be, and
sweep some coke from the kitchen, breathe,
and lie in hectares of sand. You tread
heavily to The Ladies, and see
my coat hanging subsistently, and
the chains and taps and basins falling,
falling into the sun. Chuckle, please,
for now the doctors hum
a merry, revelled tune, and go at once away.
See! they need pennies and pounds! I
ought to change when I see you waving, but,
until I have crossed your smile with a rumour,
I shall be first dark, then light. This
is the serious earth; its deep dark chill
is omen-laden and museless. Chuckle!
for now the wards lie, content
and laughing,
down...
...
BROADCASTING by jd bellamy 1997
BROADCASTING by jd bellamy 1997
Giant whispering and coughing machines,
But the Quietus shaped by thieves
Broadcasts from a churchyard sleeved
With coats that serve as muscle.
But the Quietus shaped by thieves
Broadcasts from a churchyard sleeved
With coats that serve as muscle.
The wavebands glowing overpower
The rabid storms of chording where
Your child hands clap against the air.
Beautifully devout before a spent
Cascade of money pours from out
A vast resettling of drums. Thence
Begins the mental struggles of arcane
Girls, who may not dance upon a floor
Nor faces inside faces prick music.
Cascade of money pours from out
A vast resettling of drums. Thence
Begins the mental struggles of arcane
Girls, who may not dance upon a floor
Nor faces inside faces prick music.
Vast Sundays and organ-frowned spaces
Leave dark emptied trees behind
Seas, where sotto voce tames the race
Of gaoled men; and the sureness of
Faith will dive into the bays and quays
Which seem too straight or still-born.
Leave dark emptied trees behind
Seas, where sotto voce tames the race
Of gaoled men; and the sureness of
Faith will dive into the bays and quays
Which seem too straight or still-born.
The light of rock attunes to sound
But this noise contests the altar-lit
Grounds of life’s lurch, groomed with
Minds which govern sadness from ground
Teas, but still the coffees of the earth
Grind to dust the magmas of bent birth.
But this noise contests the altar-lit
Grounds of life’s lurch, groomed with
Minds which govern sadness from ground
Teas, but still the coffees of the earth
Grind to dust the magmas of bent birth.
All but the outlines of the web-stilled
Withering plaudits of this world
Meet gloves dropped by shone shoes.
We listen to a raving violin as
A voice of crooning applauds wind
And then the sadness of decrial.
Withering plaudits of this world
Meet gloves dropped by shone shoes.
We listen to a raving violin as
A voice of crooning applauds wind
And then the sadness of decrial.
***
THE BRITONS by jim bellamy 1998
In their bootless dreams among stuffed and angry sluices,
wet amid the tears and the cauls of timeless rage,
beneath the football coach and the sofa in residual,
haggling, bickering by, the Britons take the stage.
wet amid the tears and the cauls of timeless rage,
beneath the football coach and the sofa in residual,
haggling, bickering by, the Britons take the stage.
Theirs is as sleek as Cambridge, but obfuscates in France:
pompous as a polyglot, aggressively loud tongued,
welter-worn through suffrage, insufferably bad,
awkward on the terraces, they make their idle lunge.
pompous as a polyglot, aggressively loud tongued,
welter-worn through suffrage, insufferably bad,
awkward on the terraces, they make their idle lunge.
Here, on foaming headlands, the mascot's drifting bruise,
lone in goalless eiders, runs the country down;
and the creeping bitterness, deathly cold and raw,
makes the world seem penitent and empty as a town.
lone in goalless eiders, runs the country down;
and the creeping bitterness, deathly cold and raw,
makes the world seem penitent and empty as a town.
It's said that they're the soul of every discotheque,
yet, like the troglodyted grave, their shag-n-lager fists,
as is the case with heroes, come charging dancing hard,
until, disdained by climbdowns, they eat up every kiss.
yet, like the troglodyted grave, their shag-n-lager fists,
as is the case with heroes, come charging dancing hard,
until, disdained by climbdowns, they eat up every kiss.
Buffetted and broken, these Britons shall not stay:
first cleaving then bereaving, their violent,
parting swish
beholds no ties nor shoeshine: as pigeons in the park,
they know no place of permanence nor any eagled wish.
beholds no ties nor shoeshine: as pigeons in the park,
they know no place of permanence nor any eagled wish.
The mother and the father, contending with their vows,
in shirts and skirts of leather, contravene the grounds
of skittish, British motions; till soon, into the grey,
they step from the pavilion and out into the round
in shirts and skirts of leather, contravene the grounds
of skittish, British motions; till soon, into the grey,
they step from the pavilion and out into the round
vanishing of children into the wicked maw
of those who're less a hooligan than idolated
clown;
and, as the windows shatter in some subverted nave,
the Britons, scarred by smatter, regale a fascist crown.
and, as the windows shatter in some subverted nave,
the Britons, scarred by smatter, regale a fascist crown.
.....
1987
(After Philip Larkin's, MCMXIV)
1987
(After Philip Larkin's, MCMXIV)
and the knife-shops and wynds
meandering to nowhere
the coins and pounds unsung
in pockets roaring under
sickness, as the day grows
greyer than the Thames
that flows due north-
inside the skulls of men,
no answer is now heard
to questions passing under
funereal mien, black as thunder.
burned by souls of children,
with the clarion heard outside,
each wedding, fluke must flow
from the mouths of women...
this is the word i heard
when god's man denounced
each spurring bastard bird
the skies beyond the clouds
lay driven with the dead
and all i heard was real
tonight began to fall
and thrall whereat no fear
perfused the brightest eye.
never such itinerance
never before or since
has come to wipe away
the language of this mind,
nor in this barren place,
where terror slicks thick
around the tithes in heart,
might infancy concede
to charge the codes of love
whence life begins to find
the sliding scale of rot
that burns inside the heads
of the hedons on the hills,
as the fields of london grow
crueller than the night
this night beyond all seeing?
copyright jd bellamy 1997
...
The mad bards by jd bellamy
The mad bards by jd bellamy
(‘what do they think has happened, the old fools?’
Philip Larkin's The Old Fools)
Philip Larkin's The Old Fools)
What do they reckon on proving, the mad bards,
To be as mad as this? Do they maybe retard
Each adult, even gesture, that they might rule
The circumflex of wailing? Don’t they recall
That madness is a matter that’s enslaved?
Or is it more that they have been connived
On a mode of thinking which enclaves the law
Of thinking? Can it be that they really side
With the wankers and the loners; that they rise
Each evening from their beds into a maw
Of blinking? If so (and it must be) it is mad!
To be as mad as this? Do they maybe retard
Each adult, even gesture, that they might rule
The circumflex of wailing? Don’t they recall
That madness is a matter that’s enslaved?
Or is it more that they have been connived
On a mode of thinking which enclaves the law
Of thinking? Can it be that they really side
With the wankers and the loners; that they rise
Each evening from their beds into a maw
Of blinking? If so (and it must be) it is mad!
Why in hell’s name
are words perplexing?
In times, rhymes diminish: the words you’ve had
Start weedling away into a rackish doom.
It is only oblivion that saves us from the flume
Of arid wordiness and all it gives.
The rhyme in youth is riled by moons; yes,
Mental corrosion takes its time to wind; but
The lack of knowing, the lack of regal tunes
Is all that makes the composed rhymester
Briar into contagion; so, see it’s so
That the brink of being mad is all that’s left
Between the eager ranter and the flow
Of rhymefulness into a mind bereft.
Perhaps being mad is having a lathe within
Turning and turning the mind into the dust
Of idle moving! Say then, that it I so
That the times we spend in meditation are
Just proof of madness in the long-run.
Each mind has its own distinction and
In loitering annals, mental woes to stave;
But instinctively, the turning of a hand
Is final and enough to paint the grave
With instant ends: setting down a chair,
Moving through the lamplight- how despair
Whisks the compos mentis through its trends
And into time; more, the endless regimens
Of hours, seconds, minutes, weeks and years
Is where the axis is at: this has to be
What deception and perception’s all about:
Turning and turning the mind into the dust
Of idle moving! Say then, that it I so
That the times we spend in meditation are
Just proof of madness in the long-run.
Each mind has its own distinction and
In loitering annals, mental woes to stave;
But instinctively, the turning of a hand
Is final and enough to paint the grave
With instant ends: setting down a chair,
Moving through the lamplight- how despair
Whisks the compos mentis through its trends
And into time; more, the endless regimens
Of hours, seconds, minutes, weeks and years
Is where the axis is at: this has to be
What deception and perception’s all about:
The peaks and troughs, the highs and lows; the tears
Are here conceived into a rink of rhyme
That cuts the brain to pieces as it rears
And shaves away the spheres into quicklime!
These mad bards are not so foolish now –
Their distinct ways of seeming mad are fine!
See how their cranked and crazy lips sniff wine
And slip their eager girls the Golden Bough.
That cuts the brain to pieces as it rears
And shaves away the spheres into quicklime!
These mad bards are not so foolish now –
Their distinct ways of seeming mad are fine!
See how their cranked and crazy lips sniff wine
And slip their eager girls the Golden Bough.
copyright 1998
..
DISCOGRAPHY (after Philip Larkin)
DISCOGRAPHY (after Philip Larkin)
At last, she yielded up her record, which,
Scratched, glossed upon its deck, days thick.
Oh, matted with its bakelite, the slick
Defections of glib music spin to live.
Scratched, glossed upon its deck, days thick.
Oh, matted with its bakelite, the slick
Defections of glib music spin to live.
Lies smoke the words of these ‘stereo-images‘.
My living eye must hanker after sound -
With ponytails colliding with the moon,
I lift my heady head against true noise
And bask in torpor as rock-sounds display
The quietus of a classroom, punk-sprayed.
With ponytails colliding with the moon,
I lift my heady head against true noise
And bask in torpor as rock-sounds display
The quietus of a classroom, punk-sprayed.
With every single speaker, darkness flows
Down the drains of melodies and crows
‘Your candour thus infers a classic tune
Whence gladness springs its singing from
Out the fields; and tapes will prize rooms’
Down the drains of melodies and crows
‘Your candour thus infers a classic tune
Whence gladness springs its singing from
Out the fields; and tapes will prize rooms’
From contractions rolling to a red drum,
Simply by feeling old and out of date,
Girls must wash their feet inside a pop-state
Of self-loathing; thence this white-room lays
The censors of an album, wide and loud.
Simply by feeling old and out of date,
Girls must wash their feet inside a pop-state
Of self-loathing; thence this white-room lays
The censors of an album, wide and loud.
Washing-lines in towns define cries
And music must confer with bubble-wrapped
Compact-discs that scheme the snapped.
Ah, we whisk aside the jazz of sense
And drive the blemished towers of hell-sent
Lyrics, making meagre passions mourn
The sea-shelves of an oven-heated song.
Compact-discs that scheme the snapped.
Ah, we whisk aside the jazz of sense
And drive the blemished towers of hell-sent
Lyrics, making meagre passions mourn
The sea-shelves of an oven-heated song.
In short, from eye to eye, pink dance
will send
Pennies from the skies of sensual croons.
These lakes of sinning dancing thrash
And smaller clearings break their livid tunes.
This schizophrenic tale is now unveiled,
Bricked in the boiling with dream-key ‘2-2.’
Pennies from the skies of sensual croons.
These lakes of sinning dancing thrash
And smaller clearings break their livid tunes.
This schizophrenic tale is now unveiled,
Bricked in the boiling with dream-key ‘2-2.’
*
Copyright © JD Bellamy, 2006
.....
Copyright © JD Bellamy, 2006
.....
THIS SCHIZOID SATURDAY
(after Philip Larkin's 'The Show')
(after Philip Larkin's 'The Show')
mad dawn for the crows, but crows cram these callowed veins.
within, like closing doors, the weekend has begun.
frogs (the mind's gel, the mind's mentor), and lizards,
(the reins on a mental bit); ahead of them, the freaks,
(jackknifed and eaten); amongst the freaks,
clicking cogs (all clockless and chilling). denouncements,
gabbling, clash within a weekday man, whose
dollar bills are strapped to some bricks and mortars; but
there's more than merely money. purple clowns, (marooned
men); a hobo with a begging heart; a tear weeping weed;
and then the mad laughter. for each weekend scene
is linked to faces: faces not given to life: faces
that crap inside four winds; faces whose owners are
demented. and now come the wired-offs ones; the
howling brothers and sisters; then the thighed bents of
glowering peachers; and then the bright vivisectors
who eyeball brains for stains; then the blanching breaking
sadnesses of sufferers and the dark and intershining
veracities of sex ushers, fallowed and burned to the core
by their idiotic cottonreels; then the umpteen heads; and
the vermillion of broken thinkers, and the burned up fire
and the breast murdering vomiting saviours, and the tired
red busbies, thugs, needlers, tramps, and angled fools,
all worthlessly brained and overturned, and the beeless hives
burgeoning inside mad dust. All these, outside dreams,
prove a schizoid saturday is here and cumming, and
the called cut girls, soaking in their shoes, turn thrice inside
spind sin
o the
bricked in babies, and the manacled mothers; the
stereo meadows boundering into nothingness
and the crawling, champering tears of card, moving on for
inevitable moons, and packed drivers not caring, dead,
and the overloaded lorries and the rumba loaded trucks
and the pitiful wastes in the stoned. these, outside
all sentient wondering, prove that Friday is over-
the men with guns, the mastiff breeders, and the veiled
depictions of pornstars staring down from every
billboard, and the lazy wives, and the saddleswaggerers,
and the plugfaced husbands on the prowl. all of these
are outside the Sanity Sermon, and, as if proving god's mistake,
hang themselves up in bedsit kitchens for tiny boys to look at
as the stars look down. in the mind's exchange, the
evening is coming to an end, as, dismantling, the slow
exigencies of the brain range from life to death, death to
light, and from incandescent green to red.
stereo meadows boundering into nothingness
and the crawling, champering tears of card, moving on for
inevitable moons, and packed drivers not caring, dead,
and the overloaded lorries and the rumba loaded trucks
and the pitiful wastes in the stoned. these, outside
all sentient wondering, prove that Friday is over-
the men with guns, the mastiff breeders, and the veiled
depictions of pornstars staring down from every
billboard, and the lazy wives, and the saddleswaggerers,
and the plugfaced husbands on the prowl. all of these
are outside the Sanity Sermon, and, as if proving god's mistake,
hang themselves up in bedsit kitchens for tiny boys to look at
as the stars look down. in the mind's exchange, the
evening is coming to an end, as, dismantling, the slow
exigencies of the brain range from life to death, death to
light, and from incandescent green to red.
below,
there are sharp rocks and cliffs, some vicars crying, and
angels scrying this world for jade as its siren whistles
down cut shins - and as doctoring proctors and padres and muggers
and the meadow maidens with hair as soft as slush
and, of course, the cretins in the corridors, and the reason behind it all
the reason for this, their Schizoid Saturday, slavering and hurtling
upwards, and beyond, where no-one, not even the saviour himself
may bring red cars around and about
into something more than searing mind-pain, into
something more than the intensely sad and ordinary.
angels scrying this world for jade as its siren whistles
down cut shins - and as doctoring proctors and padres and muggers
and the meadow maidens with hair as soft as slush
and, of course, the cretins in the corridors, and the reason behind it all
the reason for this, their Schizoid Saturday, slavering and hurtling
upwards, and beyond, where no-one, not even the saviour himself
may bring red cars around and about
into something more than searing mind-pain, into
something more than the intensely sad and ordinary.
...
copyright jdb 1997
..
The schizoid spreading (after Philip Larkin’s
‘The Whitsun Weddings’)
That mad year, I was sectioned every day.
Not until around
Fifty percent of my mind had split and strayed
Did my contusive, empty heart turn round;
All atriums drowned, all ventricles sacked, all sense
Of happy sanity in a rhapsody gone; and I ran
Beneath the backs of wheels, stamped on the feet
Of grinding quagmires, felt the temples rock; thence
This river’s revelled, drifting squelch began,
Where lies and blistering turpitude must beat.
Not until around
Fifty percent of my mind had split and strayed
Did my contusive, empty heart turn round;
All atriums drowned, all ventricles sacked, all sense
Of happy sanity in a rhapsody gone; and I ran
Beneath the backs of wheels, stamped on the feet
Of grinding quagmires, felt the temples rock; thence
This river’s revelled, drifting squelch began,
Where lies and blistering turpitude must beat.
All year, through the sprawled minds that swept
For centuries inland,
A low and sloping word was routward kept.
Loud skies went by, thought-straddled battles, and
Endless voices floating on a cough;
A rattle smashed completely: pleasures dipped
And died; and now and then a spell of sparks
Defaced each week of beauty, truth and wrath
Until the endless year, now crude and stripped,
Encroached upon a hospital of stars.
For centuries inland,
A low and sloping word was routward kept.
Loud skies went by, thought-straddled battles, and
Endless voices floating on a cough;
A rattle smashed completely: pleasures dipped
And died; and now and then a spell of sparks
Defaced each week of beauty, truth and wrath
Until the endless year, now crude and stripped,
Encroached upon a hospital of stars.
At first, I did not notice what a noise
The madness made
Each patient that I stopped at: time deploys
The dints of mental illness like a grave
And down the cold steeled wards, the groans and skirls
I took for porters hissing midst their veils,
And went by pleading. Once I’d slept there, though,
I heard them, grimacing and screaming; girls
In pastiche, torrid clothing, heels and nails,
All drugged completely, watching me flail,
The madness made
Each patient that I stopped at: time deploys
The dints of mental illness like a grave
And down the cold steeled wards, the groans and skirls
I took for porters hissing midst their veils,
And went by pleading. Once I’d slept there, though,
I heard them, grimacing and screaming; girls
In pastiche, torrid clothing, heels and nails,
All drugged completely, watching me flail,
As if out on the end of a scent
Raving and complaining
To something that denied them. Lost, I bent
Backwardly and forwards, now defamed
And heard the horror once again and shrill:
The brain with bad welts beneath its boots
And furrowed foreheads; nurses proud and cracked;
An empire shouting Slut! And then the ferns,
The spitting gloves and tablets on the rack,
The cocoa, coffee, medicated flaps
Raving and complaining
To something that denied them. Lost, I bent
Backwardly and forwards, now defamed
And heard the horror once again and shrill:
The brain with bad welts beneath its boots
And furrowed foreheads; nurses proud and cracked;
An empire shouting Slut! And then the ferns,
The spitting gloves and tablets on the rack,
The cocoa, coffee, medicated flaps
Marked off from me, who
was now all adrift.
Yes, from ward to ward
And whitecoats by the yard, and naked breasts
In the hands of detectives, the schizoid shores
Were bleating like a fiend. All down the mind
Fixed children danced abroad. My rest was ground,
My pale complexion lost and always blown,
And, as I moved, each waif seemed to define
Just what I saw contorting. Nurses frowned
At something killed; doctors had never known
Yes, from ward to ward
And whitecoats by the yard, and naked breasts
In the hands of detectives, the schizoid shores
Were bleating like a fiend. All down the mind
Fixed children danced abroad. My rest was ground,
My pale complexion lost and always blown,
And, as I moved, each waif seemed to define
Just what I saw contorting. Nurses frowned
At something killed; doctors had never known
A madness so whole and purely chemical:
I shall not cry!
A million murmurs blasted up the way.
I killed the landscapes, splattered skies with sighs
A dinner then a brain-scan scuttered by,
And some dead baby drinking from a bowl – and none
Thought of the mothers they would meet
Or how their fathers would perceive the power
Of maddening fear. I thought of homeless suns,
The red-light districts and the milk in teats…
I shall not cry!
A million murmurs blasted up the way.
I killed the landscapes, splattered skies with sighs
A dinner then a brain-scan scuttered by,
And some dead baby drinking from a bowl – and none
Thought of the mothers they would meet
Or how their fathers would perceive the power
Of maddening fear. I thought of homeless suns,
The red-light districts and the milk in teats…
There I was trained. And as I raced across
Bright bolts of hail,
Past hang-manned bellmen, palls of mental loss
Flumed close, and I was nearly young, my frail
Unravelling plumescent; and what minds held
Stood ready to be shot with all the showers
That treatment gives. I slept again,
And as my brightened breathing furled, there swelled
A sense of seeing, like some sundering flower,
Sent past the night, somewhere becoming pain.
Bright bolts of hail,
Past hang-manned bellmen, palls of mental loss
Flumed close, and I was nearly young, my frail
Unravelling plumescent; and what minds held
Stood ready to be shot with all the showers
That treatment gives. I slept again,
And as my brightened breathing furled, there swelled
A sense of seeing, like some sundering flower,
Sent past the night, somewhere becoming pain.
*
Copyright James Bellamy 1998
Copyright James Bellamy 1998
*
In 2004, in a competition for South London poets, this
Poem was chosen as a prize-winner by Andrew Motion,
The former Poet Laureate, who opened the public
Performance by reading it aloud…
In 2004, in a competition for South London poets, this
Poem was chosen as a prize-winner by Andrew Motion,
The former Poet Laureate, who opened the public
Performance by reading it aloud…
***LINES ON A MADDENING RECORD
(after Philip Larkin)
At last she yielded up the record which
once deflected, went into a yawn. All
rages, mad and glossy, all raves
were here constrained in one flit:
i must choke on such abrasive muses.
Your wicked eye hankers after a wicked pose-
in ponytail, hatching out of sight and mind,
o for a fury, some sweet graduate girl,
or some heady, steely weight
beneath deep and breasted terraces, or
(Quaintly sucked aside, disturbed and cold)
you wish for control over rubric and coil,
not in the least disquietened by the loll
of CD, tape, and veil, moreover,
the turning disc in its moil.
But, o, discography! as no art is,
sadness hears appoints and burns! each
vinyl cracks (like minds) and holds us
quietly in dismay, and when,
like fishing-lines, our schizoid temper
Shows the ear to tangling terms, or
gives a wag to the old-aged centre
of music itself, we then shall learn
how needle and crackle are so much more
than simple, maddening things, but
Are in every sense empirically true!
or is it just the past that speaks, the
misty parks and motor cavalcades;
the grief of Eden; the old-time bike;
the reef and sheath of heart and stave?
No. True, we go mad slowly, but,
sure of a present tense, we shan't
live in the passing of minds. This
is our seclusion - we must be crossed
with ageless manners as we ail
And fuck into deadness. Without
a chance of consequence, we must go
and, balanced entirely, preach our doubts
against life's breeze, against all odds:
if our one and only tune fills the time,
We must, cut short, be passed on surely,
no matter what, to whose future beckons;
palmed and dry and holding our voracities
and listening to the record again,
that we may learn the truths behind complicity
And thereby tell all our friends.
....
(after Philip Larkin)
At last she yielded up the record which
once deflected, went into a yawn. All
rages, mad and glossy, all raves
were here constrained in one flit:
i must choke on such abrasive muses.
Your wicked eye hankers after a wicked pose-
in ponytail, hatching out of sight and mind,
o for a fury, some sweet graduate girl,
or some heady, steely weight
beneath deep and breasted terraces, or
(Quaintly sucked aside, disturbed and cold)
you wish for control over rubric and coil,
not in the least disquietened by the loll
of CD, tape, and veil, moreover,
the turning disc in its moil.
But, o, discography! as no art is,
sadness hears appoints and burns! each
vinyl cracks (like minds) and holds us
quietly in dismay, and when,
like fishing-lines, our schizoid temper
Shows the ear to tangling terms, or
gives a wag to the old-aged centre
of music itself, we then shall learn
how needle and crackle are so much more
than simple, maddening things, but
Are in every sense empirically true!
or is it just the past that speaks, the
misty parks and motor cavalcades;
the grief of Eden; the old-time bike;
the reef and sheath of heart and stave?
No. True, we go mad slowly, but,
sure of a present tense, we shan't
live in the passing of minds. This
is our seclusion - we must be crossed
with ageless manners as we ail
And fuck into deadness. Without
a chance of consequence, we must go
and, balanced entirely, preach our doubts
against life's breeze, against all odds:
if our one and only tune fills the time,
We must, cut short, be passed on surely,
no matter what, to whose future beckons;
palmed and dry and holding our voracities
and listening to the record again,
that we may learn the truths behind complicity
And thereby tell all our friends.
....
copyright jd bellamy 2003
....
ABOUT RARE MINDS
The hash-pipe breathes, the cedars dourly sway
And so 'Dear schizoid darling, I am afraid?'.
Funny how bad the madness roams.
I could wend half of my brains, if I wanted,
Rolling in the bones unburied, canted
Over to catch the ribald of a fix
Which is bred and fled from a petri-dish;
Just think of all the rare minds that have flown
Direct into madness just by being drilled
With hawks and stasis, rather the fast thrills
of lamplight, or the noise of the moon
Looking up and up through the floes of the womb
Thinned to a prayer-harked praise.
This life, unspun, is madly instilled.
'All sanity is selfish.' No-one just now
Believes in the mind or the mental stash
Talking to God (who's mad too); the big lash
Is the maddening of people who are nice to you,
Which means doing nothing, but somehow
Saying, 'All sanity is purple.' Are
these bad lines, then, vying for madness?
Vying for steeples and chapels that dig
Deeply for the 'devil' (who's a mad bad ass)?
'But try to feel, because, however sanely
Madness tries to show us how we should be
Appear infectious. A chuckle, too. Oh!
Only the young can be sanely strewn.
Their minds are shorter, shall be tamed;
Theirs is a floatless time. Now, see!
Sitting on the Ward brings us no light,
Brings us instead to darkest night.
Beyond the bones stand sadness and remorse.
'This is the fucking truth, of course?..'
And so 'Dear schizoid darling, I am afraid?'.
Funny how bad the madness roams.
I could wend half of my brains, if I wanted,
Rolling in the bones unburied, canted
Over to catch the ribald of a fix
Which is bred and fled from a petri-dish;
Just think of all the rare minds that have flown
Direct into madness just by being drilled
With hawks and stasis, rather the fast thrills
of lamplight, or the noise of the moon
Looking up and up through the floes of the womb
Thinned to a prayer-harked praise.
This life, unspun, is madly instilled.
'All sanity is selfish.' No-one just now
Believes in the mind or the mental stash
Talking to God (who's mad too); the big lash
Is the maddening of people who are nice to you,
Which means doing nothing, but somehow
Saying, 'All sanity is purple.' Are
these bad lines, then, vying for madness?
Vying for steeples and chapels that dig
Deeply for the 'devil' (who's a mad bad ass)?
'But try to feel, because, however sanely
Madness tries to show us how we should be
Appear infectious. A chuckle, too. Oh!
Only the young can be sanely strewn.
Their minds are shorter, shall be tamed;
Theirs is a floatless time. Now, see!
Sitting on the Ward brings us no light,
Brings us instead to darkest night.
Beyond the bones stand sadness and remorse.
'This is the fucking truth, of course?..'
..
copyright 1997
..
A SCHIZOID AWAKENING
2?
I looked down at the foaming and cortal shards
Once meant for thinking. Lithiums lay thick
But sent no light back from my guard,
Slunk as it was in mists and mimes.
Slain sites and wired mistakes climbed up
Past tombs, still gurning amidst corrective rites:
I thought: 'I am mad, i am wrought in long nights.'
Misconception: for my bones slept, and my wrists
Swaggered up their hands, absolving and touched,
And hung like a staved death; the mind burnt on,
A thin point of incitement; beneath its shards,
The pallorless dial of day flamingly spilled
My virtual world into the actual, my mad bad world
Like a dropping tear, slammed at my heels again,
Entombing my schizophrenic clutch. Turning, I wished for
Another time so easy, for a further happy time
But, rendered pivoting,
Buttoned as a coat on a mindless girl,
How could madness save me? Into its space
My mindscapes meet and lock and race like rivers,
But never never choose. Am I then jealous of it?
Will I forever confuse its rumours and ends
With sanity, with sane things? This important life
Is at once part invalid, part rebel, part saint:
O, madness is purely ethereal..
..
Once meant for thinking. Lithiums lay thick
But sent no light back from my guard,
Slunk as it was in mists and mimes.
Slain sites and wired mistakes climbed up
Past tombs, still gurning amidst corrective rites:
I thought: 'I am mad, i am wrought in long nights.'
Misconception: for my bones slept, and my wrists
Swaggered up their hands, absolving and touched,
And hung like a staved death; the mind burnt on,
A thin point of incitement; beneath its shards,
The pallorless dial of day flamingly spilled
My virtual world into the actual, my mad bad world
Like a dropping tear, slammed at my heels again,
Entombing my schizophrenic clutch. Turning, I wished for
Another time so easy, for a further happy time
But, rendered pivoting,
Buttoned as a coat on a mindless girl,
How could madness save me? Into its space
My mindscapes meet and lock and race like rivers,
But never never choose. Am I then jealous of it?
Will I forever confuse its rumours and ends
With sanity, with sane things? This important life
Is at once part invalid, part rebel, part saint:
O, madness is purely ethereal..
..
copyright jim bellamy 1997
..
'What with Windmills' (speed-written)
What with windmills flowing under bivouacs of prayer,
We will surely notice grey houses under fear;
And true roads cure cars with caravans and, o,
When once we consider our true English martyrs
Then genoas under feathers will
Suffer
a slighted sea of punches
… and eyes glow like killed
clever illness.
Ah, what with pulsed peeled tentacles
Avulsing passion and pain, you and I will
Lean inside a spoiled street
And counter-attract
Giddy tarmac.
*
O we searched under moonlight, clambering too high
And, sundered, our ocean kite died.
The mean blast of wind-slipped pools found our eyes
Eager to bleed and writhe.
Through shunted sired blue fields, we caught out
All well-read lovers who kissed for drought
And none of us, even if dead, understood the drive
For dills and diamonds.
O music scantified our sanctified allegiance to thought
And then skifflers scythed
Cut ritualised teacher
wives
…
*
O and we curled up inside an abandoned dreaming suicide,
Corn-yellowed, ghosted by rapes and fierce forced skies,
Just like a pewter tree, we axed taught iron when
Ebonies strike ivories from
Rivers
and guns.
Curled deep down inside a snotty knotted night-dress, I
Will summon a sound of sexy water
To swing under drips and clasped eyes
..
O, when once inside a mind, a trilled tale was told
Old men supped snappers from
huts and larders.
*
And an ionic shirking bed of beads
Bangs clamorous catted corn dolls from fields of reeds
And, when one wretching for closed keys,
Then jeerily joking by, a night-lit killer rides from
Cited eagerly
eaten spot-lipped salt guns
Where the silence of the local church gabs from
Renascence darts, then shabbiness under teas
Broil fished baits where Ponte Vecchio butters
A tawny teased tubed tongue,
And, o, as blown apart as true
witches,
Male venuses vaunt after Florence and old suns.
O, underneath a Chinese sky, the sold saviour
Bustles after beer and star-layers
You and me.
*
copyright JD Bellamy 2019
*
c/o a joseph bread machine (speed-written)
The digging horses we rode from a clean mind
Hereby give up thought’s weed
& the tacks of time stick needlers under
Old gardens.
When once a pool of god swims
for tundra
Then blind excesses will
Stick blue tracts inside cold salt hills
.
& we have no pain here?
*
I nick green killers from impossible lays
& I send rivers to Eden
& the slides of heaven see
days
Using nets to cure the poor.
When once city machines mentalise
Digital heads
Then pits of bread cut pissed maws.
O, as a green god ghosts a glib bed
Then mind sedges
Die.
*
When once loaves & urine
shed bread crusts
Then shaven shady dinners
Must lend tears to shavers
& the watts of wards dig fathers of
Bread machines & god-doves
Where a bended brother flips meat then
A joseph bread machine
Must rock,
rock
Uh!
Caked heads burn as old rot
Sucks cruel butters.
*
The bedded boys of British rainbows
Furl cakey fondlers where old crows
Crowd deaths with dolls of war, & crows
Crowd horded whores
Deep
down inside a shop of bows
O
There is a common mind nearby which
Cans caviar under laden lips
& cleaned mons-mumblers
Melt inside welshed sea-clits.
When once we wave goodbye to kids
Then we lay dirt-waste to
Hot headed hole-hearted parlour cribs
& the bald heads of the colour blue
Strums washed guitars.
& since we have let god glow
Then we have certified clothes.
*
& since we have let a fast world to feed
us
& since we have left
Old birds far behind
Then the locos of washed river bends dust
Deep inside our minds
O
& since we have let a lost girl fear us
& since we have let cold women rust
Then we
have gummed
Rocking guns with old lust
.
Coded killer spice sees musk
Riding from gold rain
& the sunrise seizes
Milky deaths.
& since we have let the earth
Hide us under Zion
Then ruthless taping
noise
Will arise from pylons
. & the daft boys in spastic specs
Suck a blind nut.
*
Blandness has served us all too well
O sadness has seized us
& a son of man hereby raise hell from
Dulling fired pits
.
Sundering, a sea of dust has always
Sent radios to our livid cells
& bad cage cellves
Lend pissers to slum-swelled
Bald squatted homes.
When once a pick of men hears dells
Draining drawled Gin from beery bells
Then I will serve us
& you and I will desert us.
Bad bodies move - o,red keen ages
Boom behind dyed instant images.
*
The doorway to distance hears men call
Old bodies from cold halls
& the pubs of silence
shimmer after
Old lobbies & eaten stalls.
When once a forced ballet hears men
Crawling inside caked lovers
Then rolled bodies will see fathers
Raising rope from giddy feathers.
The doorway to distance hears men fall
Behind dolly drakes when
Crisscrossing babies cradle cold cauls
& a biddy on the city-rise
Rots, rots!
As we shape old winters, then old lies
Hold no shape & no moonrise.
*
O what with whoredom in the trees
O what with seasoned murder bees
& what with fishmen all around, then we
Must stop to fall.
The hazy kid of God goads hot leas
O, & as a pig of blood butts against
Worn buds & buttered men
Then self will
call
Upon naked dukes & female walls
O, what with whoredom in the trees
O, what with seasoned mamma-seed
& what with fishing veiny sleeves
Then we must answer
To tea-trades & easy Isis
The slave in bed
is firm. Olde faces
Flail, flail,
Fail.
*
& as we wandered into a kissed lift, then
Lost elevations jammed our sea of women. O,
& the tall river towel when men
Spun scary dice against a balding wall
Sent stars & Christ to forced sleep. O
When once a bullied inn falls, then halls
Will certainly duel after handled old salt-balls
& where a baby’s daddy body
Bangs in a hanged hand, then
Eyes widen like the rain.
& we waded into washed cock-hard kong
& we drove for vaginal song
& men harried us for
Duped spies & climatic cunt-war
Uh
*
& as we nibble on a multisided dream, we
Enter into fiddles & ruin
& as we fumble after life, then swung ruins
Dance for a mitching folly; & five hot seas
Strap doled angels around a cold
Swing of dates & apples.
O
What with mental medicine in old kitchens
& what with
numbered kittens outdoors, then
Mazy men with penates miction
Pisses in a snapped stream;
& the harts of Pan suck liars from screens
& the sad outgrab
Coded colas & dreams
& I have found a keen way to
Initiate bodies with a varicose eye’s nude
Snood of salts & water
.
As we shape a shaven cut for
Closed pigged sea-war
Then a bad bugging cat under scores
Paws & preens hot leeches & dulled doctors
.
O we leave behind us a lost flower
Oh, we cede to rinds a sex-tower
& mimicries must mentalise
Digitalis & old Heaven.
*
Copyright Jim Bellamy 2018
*
MIND SEA (AN EXTRACT) by jd
bellamy (speed-written)
And recorders play for Ricardo and pans piss pled pianos when eggs end
o-.
dead dirtying engines feed mad men
and eyes cut cunnies when nailed bakes end in
fat tears
ah-.
tides raid waved fast fierce mooned men
And recorders play for gazed women
ohm-.
when once a cruel cave cuts caverns then red wings weep sunny men
and seas suck seaweeded mien of men smashes winged
wives,
and ghosts gut graven graves when skies slit bones in two, and two sisters end in springed
summertime's scalding skull-.
OOO-
Sisterers end husbandry as farmed feelers fan dimming
lady graves
And my penis pisses whored wed waves-.
*
veiled nails are eaten by kids and jewellers and i am a sworn sung signet's ringing golded world
O-,.
My veins eat hot hired midnight's deep dead girl
and veiled nails are eaten by pigs and jewelry
ends, and my face sings for blind Ricardo when
eyes swim, swim, swim
Ah-.
when once a sea in a spoon sucks salt rain
then spies slide soft sunners into hot cooked vanned veins
Ohm-.
Lady chocolate feeds sweet woman-,
*
and eyes play recorders for Ricardo when skies slither in soapy sax and veins feed violas when
soft snipped cigars give head to revue bars
o-.
when once wed woman eats Easter then Xmas peals a pleasant boxed vagina
and my eyes feed recorders to loud Ricardo
ah,-.
as times eat cold clocks then seas end in drowned deadening
timetravel
and i am a bossy candle and my candles burn with night nurse
Ohm,-.
forcing fast vaginas cock my tall spread treetops
OO-.
*
pled pavements hear bright bended sleep and roads raise stains from spires as chapels weep
fast fogged meat
and pled cars career inside bright bladed silver sleep
o-.
Crying cringing children cut eyes as bright slulls feed ships to shits
And bald brothers brain bastardising bullers when
pled pavements fall inside loud stoned streets
aaah-.
when once a donkey drives a horse well home then
trees tease the Thames with brown rivering raised god
and my sky spies on trees as forests dally in a tree of worlds oo-.
seas save salty souls from shrouded sailed sails-.
*
O, when fed kitchenettes feed forced kitchens
then i eat pans, and my scrolls are baked in fictional
pitted pot and
Gulls cry for cunts as salty edams ear factual fazing daggering
houndy faces
and my shredded penis plies for pavemental piss as hot fasts eat waggering
veins
And dolls drive death into dreaming dribblers
ooo-.
when once the boys change then labile labia hear glansmen grasping
glid gas, and the backsides of a gay mood
scar cheeky cheesy wombs
ohm-,.
A messiach melds minds with milky silks
ahh-.
*
When one a river ends in sex then sex seems endless,
and gods gut grass as smokey jays feed endless friendless midnight
Ah-.
Kitchens grasp seagulls when sliding snakers suck headlights,
and i know the dreamers i must dream for, and gulls cut my sea of life
O-.
The Thames teases crying bells as London's wife
weeps for wolverines, and dogs drown where towers build a bridged
rended chugging sinking river
And bled bines break wet bread as barricades hear Shakespeare's
sea of rivers, and men ride a long way home when
razing robots raise hens from kids and Chanticleer
ohm,-.
mad motherers meld milk with titties and cities fly,-.
*
o, when once a fallen river rides the West then
bled bathers breathe stainy silver worlds and god eats wet women as
veins feed vines to wedded wolfmen
ah-.
Golden grease swathe sleep in blueberries when a
felled fat river rides the South
And my ghost is dead and alive
ahh-.
When once hot bums spray juices from waspy hides
then ripped roasties end in diners filled with snowed hot lives
ooo- i am a daggertooth who loves a sicissor's life
and cats career into dogs when faces feed fingerers to a vinegar Christ-.
Ohm-.
Bled bedded boys break breads for bad men-.
*
when once moot wifelight mourns no longer
the ribbing road of a dead love, then minds kiss a lended s
loser, and eyes eat shades
o-.
pans piss in potatoes, and houses close for a
sea of spoilt souls and midnight
ah-.
when once a mute wifer weeps for wedded woman then
heroes shall seal saccarine inside knifed children
and my masturbator is hit by a shaver and dun women
oo-.
where baking boys breed tongued boys
then diners drag drakes for geese and goosberry woods
and geese gabble when corpses kiss cackling bloods
and bedded bastards breathe soapy
scudded suds, and my god is a drowned closed city-.
*
o, life is like a sexy skull
and bones break crashed winds and i am a lady leopard
Ah-,.
god bakes scrolls for saints as sailors suck sailed paint
and my dirtying dreams are loud with feinted fallen fazing fishy children
Ohm.
Golden seasides suffer for soily soldiering slavers when
life licks a sashed sea of skulls,
and my mind has a cat's crane, and my dogs feed wrens to rafters
OO-.
pled bled boys bully ballers with graves and cremated cutlery
cries-.-
Ohh-.
*
And recorders play for Ricardo
and skies peal pianos as fay men trumpet meat
o-, tides tell tunes to tease wed sleep's fulsome tits when
bassoons play for a dumb Micado
and spun seas size skies from loud lives
ah-.
when once kids are cut to grey ribbons then
dens drive lions to clawed sung bits
and lovers souse sex with wellhanging softening tits and i am
felt with vines as glass grapes feed a glass pianolla
O-.
mugs in classrooms crease and crash to splits as sonnies sing for
stinking clays, and creations kill Chritst's curved war
. ohm-.
god's kids are peds and gods wives eat scores
and i am a dromedary caught in the rain
and anoracks edge pans into cooking sex wards when
loud irises grow on a Sunday-.
*
o, i play recorders for Ricardo and
Ricardo sucks sunken sitars when men feed women and
eyes see guitars perform fior sad stiffed man' s salty seaside town
and drying delvers find deaths in seasand
ah-.
i play recorders for king cousin and lives leap townsmen
oo-,
Fastening blind faces feed foals to horsed fielders when
sinks spray soapers inside sexed salters, and
trumpets suck sounding sleep when
fogs trumpet heat, and my veins veer West as men end in
fast stony tears
. And minds feed worlds to Anancee-.
*
and yon tapes are salad
o, as dreamers sail into mallards then
dogs feed ducks to carrers
and i am a sad maled make and
yon tapes are blind salads
Ah-.
My veins hear bled braids as veiled factors feed for
diners and luncheoned men
and my doll eats a dog as beeswax feeds earrings
and i have hedons when lips lift into hyenas
O-.
Minds cut listening FMs when skies seem
ragged with vinyl and radios kiss my digital iced screen
And Miltons milk poetical titties and blinded babies
scream-
Ohm-.
*
and i have a gutted dirtied sex kitchen
and eyes eat dinning plates as platelettes feed baking miction
O-,
veins meld milks with smashed sucked swarmed cheese
and, when rivers cross, sticks of war whip wives into wolverines
Ah,-.
minds kiss arse as a numbing anus shits in a sad sea of spaced aliens
and my god guts grass as golden seagulls peck at a meaty sewering
eye, and my gods grasp glass when trees teeter inside midnight-.
Oh,.-.
when once a soft sun soaks in hot smokes then dead ends-.
*
when once a soft sucking soiler kisses
bled muddied suns then
skies seize salts from snuffed graveyards and
woman eat a lesbotic moon
o-.
and veils veer west as seas suck a drowned mouthing
stream, and my veins vamp vines as eyelets
size screams from icy islands
Ah-.-
i feed farms to fakirs as fields feed screens to a
duct of devils and reeling pelicans
ohm,-.
And i am the moon and i am dumb-,
*
Oo, i play recorders for Ricardo when
eyes spring sitars far out at seas and sliding shroudsails piss red
winged vines
and my skies heat pianos for loud loosening operatic deade
men
ah-.
when once a river raises vaults from red saily salts
then i will trample tramps as vaginas wee from labile colted
fay grey moons
ohm,-.
a pled pealing penis pees peas as dinners choke
and ghosts grasy pudendas as gods cut a cherry's chopped
sweet smokes
And my raised river rams rills home as edges
curl at two ends, and my clicking cock cuts cold sedges
O-.
*
o, when once cut cats creep for cunts then
dummies delve waxed dollies
and i eat a sea of sleep as seas feel salty wet meat
ah-.
when recorders play for soft Ricardo then
trees teeter inside cut veins and bleeding Xmas
oo-.
i am a dolt and a dolt eats my closed clinged cock
and gods grasp girly fat gas as woman shoots a sucked
river of raided rills, and my sedge feeds a green rainbow-.
ohm,-.
as vigilers vamp veiny vineyards then a
fat finch falls on her own hot beak
and collonades cut cunnies as sleek salmons drink a car
unh,-.
closing coiling cosines shoot a cracked
star .-
*
when once a sea plays for Ricardo then
Nicholas is a blown bombaster and i hear some women made
loud as cold
and, when once a sea plays for Ricardo then
sainted Xmas cuts tinsels from seas and tinselling mad men
ah-.
o-
ohm-,.
daddies drive delved darlings home when flats feed
kitchenettes and rivers in ovens
and gods pee in ovens as houses fall away and speed
feels for farming fathers
and ghosts gut an instamatic planet Earth-.
OO-.
god's tapes must be salad and dinners man
mindless milks as maidens suck brylcreems and
my mum is a milky maiden's hot clotted wet man
And tides trip lies as tits taste of sour man
Ohm,-.
god's bollocks fall from rubbering heaven-.
*
oo, as recorders play for Ricardo then
sex will trumpet meat and
seas size sitars as smoky guttering songs end in loud
scathing sands
ah,-.
when once rivers flow for recording Ricardo then
spies slide downstream when words weep for fastening women
O-.
*
When one a river ends in sex then sex seems endless,
and gods gut grass as smokey jays feed endless friendless midnight
Ah-.
Kitchens grasp seagulls when sliding snakers suck headlights,
and i know the dreamers i must dream for, and gulls cut my sea of life
O-.
The Thames teases crying bells as London's wife
weeps for wolverines, and dogs drown where towers build a bridged
rended chugging sinking river
And bled bines break wet bread as barricades hear Shakespeare's
sea of rivers, and men ride a long way home when
razing robots raise hens from kids and Chanticleer
ohm,-.
mad motherers meld milk with titties and cities fly,-.
*
o, when once a fallen river rides the West then
bled bathers breathe stainy silver worlds and god eats wet women as
veins feed vines to wedded wolfmen
ah-.
Golden grease swathe sleep in blueberries when a
felled fat river rides the South
And my ghost is dead and alive
ahh-.
When once hot bums spray juices from waspy hides
then ripped roasties end in diners filled with snowed hot lives
ooo- i am a daggertooth who loves a sicissor's life
and cats career into dogs when faces feed fingerers to a vinegar Christ-.
Ohm-.
Bled bedded boys break breads for bad men-.
*
when once moot wifelight mourns no longer
the ribbing road of a dead love, then minds kiss a lended s
loser, and eyes eat shades
o-.
pans piss in potatoes, and houses close for a
sea of spoilt souls and midnight
ah-.
when once a mute wifer weeps for wedded woman then
heroes shall seal saccarine inside knifed children
and my masturbator is hit by a shaver and dun women
oo-.
where baking boys breed tongued boys
then diners drag drakes for geese and goosberry woods
and geese gabble when corpses kiss cackling bloods
and bedded bastards breathe soapy
scudded suds, and my god is a drowned closed city-.
*
o, life is like a sexy skull
and bones break crashed winds and i am a lady leopard
Ah-,.
god bakes scrolls for saints as sailors suck sailed paint
and my dirtying dreams are loud with feinted fallen fazing fishy children
Ohm.
Golden seasides suffer for soily soldiering slavers when
life licks a sashed sea of skulls,
and my mind has a cat's crane, and my dogs feed wrens to rafters
OO-.
pled bled boys bully ballers with graves and cremated cutlery
cries-.-
Ohh-.
*
And recorders play for Ricardo
and skies peal pianos as fay men trumpet meat
o-, tides tell tunes to tease wed sleep's fulsome tits when
bassoons play for a dumb Micado
and spun seas size skies from loud lives
ah-.
when once kids are cut to grey ribbons then
dens drive lions to clawed sung bits
and lovers souse sex with wellhanging softening tits and i am
felt with vines as glass grapes feed a glass pianolla
O-.
mugs in classrooms crease and crash to splits as sonnies sing for
stinking clays, and creations kill Chritst's curved war
. ohm-.
god's kids are peds and gods wives eat scores
and i am a dromedary caught in the rain
and anoracks edge pans into cooking sex wards when
loud irises grow on a Sunday-.
*
o, i play recorders for Ricardo and
Ricardo sucks sunken sitars when men feed women and
eyes see guitars perform fior sad stiffed man' s salty seaside town
and drying delvers find deaths in seasand
ah-.
i play recorders for king cousin and lives leap townsmen
oo-,
Fastening blind faces feed foals to horsed fielders when
sinks spray soapers inside sexed salters, and
trumpets suck sounding sleep when
fogs trumpet heat, and my veins veer West as men end in
fast stony tears
. And minds feed worlds to Anancee-.
*
and yon tapes are salad
o, as dreamers sail into mallards then
dogs feed ducks to carrers
and i am a sad maled make and
yon tapes are blind salads
Ah-.
My veins hear bled braids as veiled factors feed for
diners and luncheoned men
and my doll eats a dog as beeswax feeds earrings
and i have hedons when lips lift into hyenas
O-.
Minds cut listening FMs when skies seem
ragged with vinyl and radios kiss my digital iced screen
And Miltons milk poetical titties and blinded babies
scream-
Ohm-.
*
and i have a gutted dirtied sex kitchen
and eyes eat dinning plates as platelettes feed baking miction
O-,
veins meld milks with smashed sucked swarmed cheese
and, when rivers cross, sticks of war whip wives into wolverines
Ah,-.
minds kiss arse as a numbing anus shits in a sad sea of spaced aliens
and my god guts grass as golden seagulls peck at a meaty sewering
eye, and my gods grasp glass when trees teeter inside midnight-.
Oh,.-.
when once a soft sun soaks in hot smokes then dead ends-.
*
when once a soft sucking soiler kisses
bled muddied suns then
skies seize salts from snuffed graveyards and
woman eat a lesbotic moon
o-.
and veils veer west as seas suck a drowned mouthing
stream, and my veins vamp vines as eyelets
size screams from icy islands
Ah-.-
i feed farms to fakirs as fields feed screens to a
duct of devils and reeling pelicans
ohm,-.
And i am the moon and i am dumb-,
*
Oo, i play recorders for Ricardo when
eyes spring sitars far out at seas and sliding shroudsails piss red
winged vines
and my skies heat pianos for loud loosening operatic deade
men
ah-.
when once a river raises vaults from red saily salts
then i will trample tramps as vaginas wee from labile colted
fay grey moons
ohm,-.
a pled pealing penis pees peas as dinners choke
and ghosts grasy pudendas as gods cut a cherry's chopped
sweet smokes
And my raised river rams rills home as edges
curl at two ends, and my clicking cock cuts cold sedges
O-.
*
o, when once cut cats creep for cunts then
dummies delve waxed dollies
and i eat a sea of sleep as seas feel salty wet meat
ah-.
when recorders play for soft Ricardo then
trees teeter inside cut veins and bleeding Xmas
oo-.
i am a dolt and a dolt eats my closed clinged cock
and gods grasp girly fat gas as woman shoots a sucked
river of raided rills, and my sedge feeds a green rainbow-.
ohm,-.
as vigilers vamp veiny vineyards then a
fat finch falls on her own hot beak
and collonades cut cunnies as sleek salmons drink a car
unh,-.
closing coiling cosines shoot a cracked
star .-
*
when once a sea plays for Ricardo then
Nicholas is a blown bombaster and i hear some women made
loud as cold
and, when once a sea plays for Ricardo then
sainted Xmas cuts tinsels from seas and tinselling mad men
ah-.
o-
ohm-,.
daddies drive delved darlings home when flats feed
kitchenettes and rivers in ovens
and gods pee in ovens as houses fall away and speed
feels for farming fathers
and ghosts gut an instamatic planet Earth-.
OO-.
god's tapes must be salad and dinners man
mindless milks as maidens suck brylcreems and
my mum is a milky maiden's hot clotted wet man
And tides trip lies as tits taste of sour man
Ohm,-.
god's bollocks fall from rubbering heaven-.
*
oo, as recorders play for Ricardo then
sex will trumpet meat and
seas size sitars as smoky guttering songs end in loud
scathing sands
ah,-.
when once rivers flow for recording Ricardo then
spies slide downstream when words weep for fastening women
O-.
*
The digging horses we rode from a clean mind Hereby give up thought�s weed
& the tacks of time stick needlers under Old gardens.
When once a pool of god swims for tundra Then blind excesses will
Stick blue tracts inside cold salt hills
.
& we have no pain here?
*
I nick green killers from impossible lays & I send rivers to Eden
& the slides of heaven see days Using nets to cure the poor.
When once city machines mentalise Digital heads
Then pits of bread cut pissed maws. O, as a green god ghosts a glib bed
Then mind sedges
Die.
*
When once loaves & urine shed bread crusts Then shaven shady dinners
Must lend tears to shavers & the watts of wards dig fathers of
Bread machines & god-doves Where a bended brother flips meat then
A joseph bread machine
Must rock, rock
Uh!
Caked heads burn as old rot
Sucks cruel butters.
*
The bedded boys of British rainbows Furl cakey fondlers where old crows
Crowd deaths with dolls of war, & crows Crowd horded whores
Deep down inside a shop of bows
O
There is a common mind nearby which Cans caviar under laden lips
& cleaned mons-mumblers Melt inside welshed sea-clits.
When once we wave goodbye to kids Then we lay dirt-waste to
Hot headed hole-hearted parlour cribs & the bald heads of the colour blue
Strum washed guitars.
& since we have let god glow Then we have certified clothes.
*
& since we have let a fast world to feed us & since we have left
Old birds far behind Then the locos of washed river bends dust
Deep inside our minds
O
& since we have let a lost girl fear us & since we have let cold women rust
Then we have gummed
Rocking guns with old lusts
.
Coded killer spice sees musk Riding from gold rain
& the sunrise seizes Milky deaths.
& since we have let the earth Hide us under Zion
Then ruthless taping noise Will arise from pylons
. & the daft boys in spastic specs
Suck a blind nut.
*
Blandness has served us all too well O sadness has seized us
& a son of man hereby raises hell from
Dulling fired pits
.
Sundering, a sea of dust has always Sent radios to our livid cells
& bad caged cellves Lend pissers to slum-swelled
Bald squatted homes. When once a pick of men hears dells
Draining drawled Gin from beery bells
Then I will serve us & you and I will desert us.
Bad bodies move - o,red keen ages Boom behind dyed instant images.
*
The doorway to distance hears men call Old bodies from cold halls
& the pubs of silence shimmer after
Old lobbies & eaten stalls.
When once a forced ballet hears men Crawling inside caked lovers
Then rolled bodies will see fathers
Raising rope from giddy feathers
The doorway to distance hears men fall Behind dolly drakes when
Crisscrossing babies cradle cold cauls
& a biddy on the city-rise
Rots, rots!
As we shape old winters, then old lies
Hold no shape & no moonrise.
*
O what with whoredom in the trees O what with seasoned murder bees
& what with fishmen all around, then we Must stop to fall.
The hazy kid of God goads hot leas
O, & as a pig of blood butts against Worn buds & buttered men
Then self will call
Upon naked dukes & female walls O, what with whoredom in the trees
O, what with seasoned mamma-seed & what with fishing veiny sleeves
Then we must answer
To tea-trades & easy Isis .. uh?
The slave in bed is firm. Olde faces
Flail, flail,
Fail.
*
& as we wandered into a kissed lift, then Lost elevations jammed our sea of women. O,
& the tall river towel when men Spun scary dice against a balding wall
Sent stars & Christ to forced sleep. O
When once a bullied inn falls, then halls
Will certainly duel after handled old salt-balls
& where a baby�s daddy body Bangs in a hanged hand, then
Eyes widen like the rain.
& we waded into washed cock-hard kong & we drove for vaginal song
& men harried us for
Duped spies & climatic cunt-war
ooo
*
& as we nibble on a multisided dream, we Enter into fiddles & ruin
& as we fumble after life, then swung ruins
Dance for a mitching folly; & five hot seas Strap doled angels around a cold
Swing of dates & apples
O
What with mental medicine in old kitchens & what with numbered kittens outdoors, then
Mazy men with penates miction
Pisses in a snapped stream;
& the harts of Pan suck liars from screens
& the sad outgrab
Coded colas & dreams & I have found a keen way to
Initiate bodies with a varicose eye�s nude
Snood of salts & water
.
As we shape a shaven cut for Closed pigged sea-wards
Then a bad bugging cat under scores
Paws & preens hot leeches & dulled doctors
.
O we leave behind us a lost flower Oh, we cede to rinds a sex-tower
& mimicries must mentalise
Digitalis & old Heaven.
*
Sss a kisser inside soap digs drips to sized Chiller veins
Sss O as a sweated sex loaf slices mute pain Then rodded lipped pokes suffer child wards
And the coded keen killers of the keen swarms Sink slinking fishy fingers inside
Raised dames, and, lost, loosening tree brides
Bang sauced seed where lobster-lies Leap honey and fish inside red rainbows
O, as a city horse harangues scarred brogues Then brutal bleached beauties
Bind gashes to grit-gulls, and foreign bodies
Bear bared bloods where Blonde bitches bend bairns inside stairs
And, ssss a wedded sex fern sucks loopy
Slayed sex kitchen?
O When widened summer miction heeds Halters, barns and naked tea leaves,
Then the royal blue babies of the sleeved Link painted pills to dogs, dads, and greed
Sss the caverns of the purpled penis pleads for
Vaginal clemencies But, fished from harness, holidays to wars
Whip horses and shave mules down, down,
And curled greased doilies drown a town
Ahh.
The coils of gems grind meat The soils of hens grind dreamt meat, and, o,
As daggering sealed skins Sample weed from cut bins, then soaped Downs
Delves baths with poles
-,
There is a vast city here O, here, in the past, a crazed cavy reveres
Dolls, dams, and crayons And I send my dinosaur to walls
And I wash my dimetrodon, and city palls
Punish pricked pictures
..
The ideal head has gone! The emptiness abed has gone! The idiom of neon crap has gone!
Oooo
Lotions inside false emotions Lash loss as salt blinds Ravel into dived
Blurred minds�
Ohm?...
ahhh
Wow, what with youths, nudes & cradle-vice
We must live upstairs Wow, what with veins, dudes & candle-Christs
We must live in hairs & we make up sin from skinny heirs
& we see a summer of lice Dreaming of a vaginal sea-height
^& the lords of green Hell
Hang loud tocsins from a funeral bell?
The god of chilled winter summons Ivy-bines & radio sirens
& the cods of quickened diamond Daub a dragger with alarms
& the screens of saviours harden
& the wolves of windows Shadow feral taxicabs.
Ambulant idols pray where sin Casts a crab upon
A tree of murder; O, as the sun Streams from deadened guns
Then mandarin currencies strum
Washy city guitars,
& we smoked all ruddy year & we choked on a bald tear
La
We must live in hollows &We must hear sex
break?
..
I stood against god�s jeep O, I lathered after gem-sleep
& the countries of my mind�s heapCombed a busman�s leer..
The wives of woollen dew had
Impassable rings - The widows of old stings
Cut a hairnet from Hero�s dad A time bomb had A city�s flag; & old sleep
Sent us to dreams of Islands & cabs
& the wives of the dew saw wheat Crying, crying,
Oh!?
The first fruited face we had Dappled under Dali
O the fierceness of space
Cut us
& we fell into the moon, & the sandmen of the mad Rode us unto Sunday
& the doctors of our tune
Rode a dilly space
Tut-tut-tut-tut� I espy a cold tent O I sleep out in a star
I espy a soft mint � ah, as my car Carries donuts West
Then diaries will teach the poor & dairies in a hill
Must read our wills-& starred scent
Leads us to blue water....The side of a mill has eyes O the birds in a frill
keep slides & when once mistress Aladdin
Drops a can in the rain Then we supper after Paladin
& whispering skeins Play pool with dollies
& a world at one out-grabs Daughters of teenaged brollies
Factories harvest old women.
Nunneries arrest rolled children
& odes to god�s navel
Dig steps with bestial eye-cradles.
The wags of stairs are filled &, la, the rags of prayers
Are wrapped in sylvan snares
& we swore for men
& we fed heels to hens; & moon heirs
Chauffeur Monks unto A green space where May�s shoe
Hobbles against pierced blued Bodied stasis
& a junky in a bed uses a metal bin
& the pigs of aces Grunt for spunk!!!!
Get off your horse & Drink your milks
Get off for the force & drink hot silks?- Millers weep for fire when spun wind
Swirls, swirls Get off your horse &
Drink your stilts
Get off- Lo- cum let reflection Dazzle prunes with sands
Lo hear now a cocking horse Swelled up by the juices of the city
Oo give a good hand To the gal on the piano
Ohh.
Let wisdom suck yon island?!!!
.
A wizardry of widows weds the body & the body bountiful listens to diddy
& a mean green mummy body Drives a sitar
Under churches, where ova under tar
Sink fish beneath Stinking crocus cigars.
Aqueous beauty paces O old viscous ladies peer from laces
& blind blondies Brag for mirrors�
We awoke with a mean start Then fell into the rain & the rest sucks
a jam tart. Uh ho ah ho ha Uh ho ah ha ha......
A-men!
Life that plods from home appears aglow with rain And a giddy life cries for
Slumbering heat and hired war�.
As a tall mean sea topples, then burials under pain Guides glitter outside
Sweet gables and soft writhe Law.
O a baby�s liquid age summons
Thunderheads.
*
O these threatened furled city forests fling guns where An ignorant flamed father
Encases slain scissors with suns and mothered air And the star-lit heavy seas
Hurl spheres from old lovers.
A movement, a skirl, slips a washed river as prayer Topples into sound.
*
As we teeter at a mine-head, then we realise coked air O, as a miner in a soft bed
Whimpers, then a town of inside drifted pitted lead
Lams coaled lichen.
A space where Pan met a digger�s meat, then music Enlivened bairns with fallowed debs
And, sundering by, a crib of dark shafts hears
Coded miner-men melting after
An idolised pit-quiver..
Odes to old galleries dig the North as fuelled sisters Travel Down down down
Underground, where elves unravel
Into faced blood.
*
And these are the sad lands where we made our urban fortune And here, as a bad lad dams air
Then an urban sea of hair
Cuts scissors from cartoons. The roaches of the spared
Clad ants inside blithe
Lasered sun, a
And a sliding father to red lies
Tells a tom-tale-tit for libelling nude slandering
Farmed broad-browed dives.
Bound in vine-leaved loveliness Sun-clad children chastise cunts with cloaks and grime
And a green cat creates
Canine kittens.
*
As yelling loud leas rip sin-clad children, then insane fakes Swell up for
Gaughan and Vincent
And, today, where a tearing bird cuts giddy winged lakes
Then a blithe bodice of sex-wars
Widen blonde beer, and, o,
Undersided by yo-yo, a bladed bomb of brakes
Hits bonnets as radiators
Glance vans from fiery hopped scents
.
When stone-encased bible bods preach a lone Thespian of bird
Then massive moulinex mouths blended nerves
With bodices and farthing-foams.
Bibbers found within gaped ginners guzzle old
Slapped cars and blue feathers.
*
As we peer from gentle eyes, we will come to know The slamming wife of lies
And the copious career of minds will come to blow
Five mongoloid massed bird-blinds
O
As we peep out of idiot waters, then we will show Five winds and one billion brogues
And bodying beer-hammered winey ditty crows
Must time-bomb fats and loaves
O
A hotel and a mean lover appear to sun-craze us And the bolted braves of combed cunt-rust cuts
Tar-jaunted jostlers of bridges
And then endless vermilion ramped sluts
Of all heavenly dumb dropped infant scarred
Salty sealed muck�
Just as when the son of Puck juiced up Then books of dung prove cocks under caps
Demonstrate that sex is a load of crap?
*
Dead dives we utilised when ashen ravines Leant on self and died
Have now vanished into machines, and a son of spies Verges deeply down to star-flaunted latrines
Where gulping wax-rides mount pinched pockets
With bums.
This intimate side of roots cuts samphire from
Loaned lifeless pity-puns
And blithe grimed gaoled galoshes suffer stunned
Bad bones and gum.
A sudden smoothed reel of radium will her Golden grapes and groped
Wood-riven starlings, and here and now, words
Stop, just like
An overladen dream.
*
When once we offered up nine fingers, then We wantonly suffered blind touch
as a meddled opened lovers blow crowed fuck
then
witnesses to ashtrays smoke cartel sea-struck
imploded musk.
For better and enhearsed, we dolly after draggling Dog messes and city lusts
And the ivories of oaken dollies must insist
That nylon kneaded breaded lisps
Lick a yeasty tongue from card bully-bits.
When first we offered us a car of creative writs Then a mad yet mild clitoris
Supped saline debts where sugary scattered men
Staunched swaggered bleeding
And the blue holidays of a keen wild harness
Cuts golfs from guilty chidden
Green gardy gilled gashed carved cat-piss.
Oh
*
Mean sand matrixes of girls and sunflowers Move inside blued stone
And sandy hissed closed worlds
Suck a lonely bitten bird from caged lost pearls
O
As the wives of one billion cars career after Blood-concertinas, then a hoard of fathers
Must jack malt rain as
Bad buddies study how to purely murder
Jointed limbed labia�
Before us, bladdering rocky popsongs Run ragged within sweet spies and lost guns
And vapid sprung sin
Teems a towed towel underneath us, and
Loaded drums hang huge floats where
Christ and judas listen to the air.
*
And I may well still hear a confined space where
You and I fell down love�s stair And I might well have to fear
World-warming wives who hiss inside god�s ear.
Too much mad life has been lived under Venomous city gossamer
All too many Christs have seen spun thunder
Spin, and
Old crabbed books of romantic spoiled Disingenuous spirit, and ghosts inside crammed
Gaoled cells
Lend fast tears to female land.
And, o, the prized prisoner of sin unloads us
And, ah, the lithe issuer of old skin sees dust
Drooling down the day.
Amen?
*
Hundreds of empty tears miraculously measure
Pied piggies
And, under a telepathic veil, as don of pleasure
Fills a good mind with schizophrenic bodies.
A witch�s brew melodiously jives for rivers
And, o, when once a reed of fire hears mirrors
Then shaven sodded summers
Fill a good head with Numbers.
As naked noiselessness wanes into fluids, then
Pushed diamond pussies
Are pulled from formless city cod and women
Rope peace with budded flash buddies?
Tata says the remedy whilst a keen family
Huddles within cherry hairs and paedophiles.
*
Hymens may well blow down where a town of graves
Dance for pluggy ranked naves
And, o, as Alonso de Saville dreams for old lays
Then Oscar the Wild widens away from
Dobby dollar guns.
Zillions of eyes eat into a fixing vale of days
And, ah, when one thousand Italian dog-graves
Gravel after the Mudarra of mad men shoot gums
Then wooded heels will
Sodomise Ma Mary�s cured crossed god-gill.
Is it perhaps the sudden moistening of eyes
That leads us to veins and babies?
*
And Spanish women swing-
Dancing while swaying, smoky smooched
Men and sin
Rock like a hanged gun.
Billions of eyes drag dope from brigs
And, o, where Italian children
Delve God, then
Rock raises cobs and silly seasons.
Whatever the songs of the dead
We will cut easy lays from sea-heads
And, sundering by,
Hooked nuclei jam sky,
*
Shouted from a cock, a terrible treed timeless clock
Spines aside timed graves
O a silent listlessness transforms sounds into ashes
And, laden with lays, a bogging bed of eye-flashes
Fill form with cow-caged lost rock.
Liquid hands tap on an amputated roof. Old days
Dream of languid fear. Cold naves burn beer
And the noose of Love enters voles into blue tears.
The kiss of sexy magic enhearses whored hashes
And the De Mudarra of a chapped church
Tramples deaths into soul. O, a beard of hurt
Prays for meat
And eyelids sunder sleep.
*
When once hissing magics cast conjuring gloom
A hat in a dove
Delves dogged clothed assisted magicked doom
And, o, we spiral down where a town of God
Cuts illusive death.
Under the wrenched silence of a tamed Love
A daubed sea cuts rods from tricked Loves
And, ah, a Vecchio of fastness sees blue drugs
Drawing dirt from leprous depths.
Liquid thumbs sink faces deep down death�s
Dolly side
And the Son of Pan sirens after dragging lies
..
A license of ridges raps on cunt as old wives
Stopper sex and knowing.
*
As a sex-farmed sea of arable oracles
Lend salt-charms to rocking tables
Then a laden star of arms shoots closed gables
O
Billions of eyes melodiously burn for
Cats and sin, and loud seas of war
Cut a shouldered lung
And a hyper-heel hears old claws
Crying for father�
And we may hear, nay, leer
Deeply down in a fast blue tear
And we may fear, nay, disappear
�
*O, i am whoring death now and eyes eat eagles as birds suck sand and
I am warring wading woman made from
soft charred cunts and
Lovers lead Lesbians into a salty span
Oh-.Fleshy felines feed familial females and skies spit twinned ties and males
meld milky maps with veins and veils
Ah-.
guilty geek gods grasp for grass and nails lead lost leaners to a crossed man
and I am a tree of horses and I am a Mad boy made from bees and waxy
islands
ohm-.
I kiss ice cold as tongues taste men.
.
*
Eyes told on you and your mamma when a golden blinded summer fed death to men and
i kiss a tree of cold as tongues taste sand
oo-.when once a sea of saviours feeds on Man
then, delving, a lea of lovers feeds Man
And god is dud and his son a mad man
AHH-.
Dirty boys in suet urine eat cud and sand falls where eyes of deserts growl with sand
and I am a breathing brother to god's land
OHM-.
old rivers rain from raping roses and I am a cutted cunt and I am a tree of sand
And gods are cast from caves as men land
Facedown in a tree of a green eyed island oo-
aHH-.
i am a flamed god and god is my sex sand
Oh-.
*
O, I am a sad sodden boy and I am A dud boy who eats veins from sand
o-.
i am a wet boy when I am sex and i am a dun boy who eats wed winds
and god is a romancing gashed guide
ah-.
Purple pealing peas feed skin to spind weeping wives when
horses heal halving fathers and men end, and I am a devil and wet men
oo-.
Gals taught me about the sun and I am a scattering sea of dumbs and
Mojo peals my prick as angels land
facedown in a tree of ghosts and Man
Ohm-.
Lady love is a losing lover and I am exited when rivers kiss my sky
AHH-.
*
And glad youth is torn away from bad sex as veins feed death to a hot gun and
lady sadie lover is a lousy loosing river and
I am a fled god and my god eats a cradle and
glad youth is torn away from cots as
cunny sees sex rise from raided vacant lots, and veins veer West as rivers are
closed in a sea of sexy sense and a star
o-.
I am in love with the crocodile and a cradling cussing car kisses shebirds and
I am a welling wound and sex is wed sand
Ah-. I smell fruits in flavours as farms end.
*
I eat hot wed weeping female flesh and gods feed on wetting sexy fishmen and
i smell strange fruits and my farm is sand
ah-.when once a caged moon eats a sun then man will feed on veins and islands and
i eat hot wed woman's flesh and
eyes eat eating skulls as eggs eat sand
castlers, and I am wet tree and I am sand
o-.
Shapeless formless gulls eat a sea of scams and I am a bled bearded seawind and crams
kiss a crying crawling cold as veins eat man
and god is a superman and man is a bad hand,
And furious firewinds kill a candle as sex dams dirt and I piss when chimneys eat sex
AHH-.
Gilt girls cry for sex as lovers eat T Rex
..
*
As hot whored widowers kiss a wiped cunt then, wailing in four seas, a tree of sex eats a
cold crawling coast where veins hear rats and
gilt girls glide for sex as rapists feed T Rex
and gods are space farmers and veins are sex
o-.
shapeless formless females feed gals with teetering topping teasy teens and I am with a
viney veining field where grass smokes kids
ah-.A cold sun is closed in kiddies as men end a
torn skull and bones bleed into men and sex
ends, and I am a wet wife and I am dun sex
oo-.
Crawling cavemen kill caves as men mitch and I am a capsizing sea of stoned selfsex
and I am a mad mad made from spaced sex
Ahh-.Gilt gods grasp grass as gullers eat minds
..
*
O, I eat pips from pissing pears and i am fruit familiar flame and men eat meteors and
golden gods kiss a sea of smashed sand
ohhh-.crawling cavemen kiss caves as stoned men
itch with spoiling clouds and seas eat cruel men
ahhh-.Faces float downstream as cut guns eat sin and I am a firewind and my eyes are sexy sin
Ohm-.
When once a candy castle floats from sin then, dressed in drags, treetop eats green
smashing swelled men and I am a hot scream
oh-.gods grasp grapes from freights and a dream
drags dolphins for dripped devilers and I am a tree of germolene and I am cut sand
OO-.
Ashes eat burned wars and I have a hot hand Ahh-.
Ohh-.Goldy goddies greet grassy gulls and I eat Man
o-aH-.i am thrilled with killers and i am deadened.
,,
?
*
Veins pluck penises and I am torn from a sex speeding hearing spoon and I am
wed to vile vented vampires and
I am filled with killers and god is a tree of mad sando-.
gods grasp grapes from freight and sense eats Man
and I live for a burnt and guns eat gulls and
Veins pluck penises and I am torn from a sexy voiding maw where sex ends
aHH-.
Guilty goddesses greet gulled grinded men as sex sleeps for drugged thought and sex scars
skylit lovers and the vines of soft sex hears Mars then, gone away, a leaf of losing lovers eats cars
,,
When once a meadow moves then fields farm forcing frames when child woman eats hot calmed
seas, and seas are raised from rotting rain and
I am a torn god and I am web of wept hands and
gliding ghosts kiss grass as countries eat England
oo-.
Ghouls are shot from the skull as bonemen end, and gashing graveyards kiss a stoneman
AHH-.
O-.
End..
*
kissing men feed gulls to glades and eyes eat soft guns as graves eat blades and
i am a fat weezel made hot with cavy cats and god is my Buddha and I am a sea of
losing leaming ladies and woman is mine
o-.
ghosts are cut from skulls as bonemen cross veins with crossing cries and ghosts are lost
Ahh-.
A miracle in a sun sends sex to solved loss and I am a happy hipster and I am a Cross
OO-.
When once a rabbit told me about a lost and lousy flusey Christ then my star
ended, and crying wolverines drive a car home, and grass is gassed as cars eat Mars
And I am a golden grave and I am the stars
Ohm-.
happy smashing steeples suck a sex vase
Ahh-.
Israel is a perfect void made from a glass
Ehh?
Ends..
..
*
O, I am a tree of mad men and sex falls into
cut whored seasas smacked men kiss a tree of blind brained smooths
and eyes eat the Thames when
mad boys bob from blenched screams and sex is a sea of wed nudes
ah-.
happy hipsters whoring worlds weep for dreams as slept sin moves
back home, and I am a gulled gawped fish and seamen sip my mood
and I am a dell of deep dead death and my eyes eat a sea of grooving
games and games feed gals to gulls as
veins veer West, and God is a smothering soapsud and men eat smooths
oH-,.
fey girls in a goosing wood feed cats to fat cranes as cut swallows ride
forcing fixing skies
and i must go to shut the suns of love or else find fear run me
When once a sea sucks water then
sliding seashores fall into a spind
wind, and fathers swim a sea's sins.
Leaping laughing seas end in sin.
*
Gilled kissing seas hiss and eyes are tides torn from castles and
leaping laughing rivers eat sailed stoned cut hot men and
i feed on a wet drowned child and
gods are my angled idiot angels
ah-.
when once a sea sucks water then skies slide into spying weeping men
and sinners seize a listening Thames
o-.
J Christ is a leper in a loud field and gods are gulls made guilty as men
and i am a wedded wolf made from
cold cut women and I feed on
a foaming foetus where rivers run home, home, home, home
Ohm-.
Riding dipping dampening rivers ride a raided storm and life listens
..
*
Gold penises shoot spunk in the moon and
golden graced vaginas shoot sweet sex religions when
man ate superman
and i am a hording viper whose sex slides and slithers when
dirty doorways open up a wet crack in a candle
and golden gaoling willies wed wives to four fast winds,
and I feed a gateway to a sea of spermed flowers and sex
winds away where adders slither off into
cunts, and the dampening dollies who feed veins to blurred
blue filmic forcing farms mete salty ships to cut curves
Oh-.
guilty ghostly seagulls eat a dryad from a dried wet sand
and i am a gilling grappling geizer trapped in a red sand
Ah-.
from out a seam of sleaze, a mad man feeds an island
and goddesses gleam with slease as mad kids kiss a
rotted deserted cut land where skinned up lasers feel for
Lions, and a sleeping snarling saviour sucks on weed
AHH-.
I sit in sleep as the stains of the dead soak into seed
and poking petrols piss gas as paraffin shoots soft seedy
ramming graves and hot cut hearts hit hot molds and I am
shed inside pled naves when churches kiss a praying man
OO-.
I fall into sleep as the sun wees in a a hot shut dream
..
*
A cut hot sun is opened when skies sail stars downstream and rivers run where men
kiss a glassy sky
and a hot wet vein spills from the stars when
?//
...
& these domed words I read & write
Lay green waste to rode robins. O, midnight
Lams a layered face with
Breaking bent bacon; & the kids inside pigs
Pace for birdy brawls.
The digging horses we rode from a clean mind Hereby give up thought�s weed
& the tacks of time stick needlers under Old gardens.
When once a pool of god swims for tundra Then blind excesses will
Stick blue tracts inside cold salt hills
.
& we have no pain here?
*
I nick green killers from impossible lays & I send rivers to Eden
& the slides of heaven see days Using nets to cure the poor.
When once city machines mentalise Digital heads
Then pits of bread cut pissed maws. O, as a green god ghosts a glib bed
Then mind sedges
Die.
*
When once loaves & urine shed bread crusts Then shaven shady dinners
Must lend tears to shavers & the watts of wards dig fathers of
Bread machines & god-doves Where a bended brother flips meat then
A joseph bread machine
Must rock, rock
Uh!
Caked heads burn as old rot
Sucks cruel butters.
*
The bedded boys of British rainbows Furl cakey fondlers where old crows
Crowd deaths with dolls of war, & crows Crowd horded whores
Deep down inside a shop of bows
O
There is a common mind nearby which Cans caviar under laden lips
& cleaned mons-mumblers Melt inside welshed sea-clits.
When once we wave goodbye to kids Then we lay dirt-waste to
Hot headed hole-hearted parlour cribs & the bald heads of the colour blue
Strum washed guitars.
& since we have let god glow Then we have certified clothes.
*
& since we have let a fast world to feed us & since we have left
Old birds far behind Then the locos of washed river bends dust
Deep inside our minds
O
& since we have let a lost girl fear us & since we have let cold women rust
Then we have gummed
Rocking guns with old lusts
.
Coded killer spice sees musk Riding from gold rain
& the sunrise seizes Milky deaths.
& since we have let the earth Hide us under Zion
Then ruthless taping noise Will arise from pylons
. & the daft boys in spastic specs
Suck a blind nut.
*
Blandness has served us all too well O sadness has seized us
& a son of man hereby raises hell from
Dulling fired pits
.
Sundering, a sea of dust has always Sent radios to our livid cells
& bad caged cellves Lend pissers to slum-swelled
Bald squatted homes. When once a pick of men hears dells
Draining drawled Gin from beery bells
Then I will serve us & you and I will desert us.
Bad bodies move - o,red keen ages Boom behind dyed instant images.
*
The doorway to distance hears men call Old bodies from cold halls
& the pubs of silence shimmer after
Old lobbies & eaten stalls.
When once a forced ballet hears men Crawling inside caked lovers
Then rolled bodies will see fathers
Raising rope from giddy feathers
The doorway to distance hears men fall Behind dolly drakes when
Crisscrossing babies cradle cold cauls
& a biddy on the city-rise
Rots, rots!
As we shape old winters, then old lies
Hold no shape & no moonrise.
*
O what with whoredom in the trees O what with seasoned murder bees
& what with fishmen all around, then we Must stop to fall.
The hazy kid of God goads hot leas
O, & as a pig of blood butts against Worn buds & buttered men
Then self will call
Upon naked dukes & female walls O, what with whoredom in the trees
O, what with seasoned mamma-seed & what with fishing veiny sleeves
Then we must answer
To tea-trades & easy Isis .. uh?
The slave in bed is firm. Olde faces
Flail, flail,
Fail.
*
& as we wandered into a kissed lift, then Lost elevations jammed our sea of women. O,
& the tall river towel when men Spun scary dice against a balding wall
Sent stars & Christ to forced sleep. O
When once a bullied inn falls, then halls
Will certainly duel after handled old salt-balls
& where a baby�s daddy body Bangs in a hanged hand, then
Eyes widen like the rain.
& we waded into washed cock-hard kong & we drove for vaginal song
& men harried us for
Duped spies & climatic cunt-war
ooo
*
& as we nibble on a multisided dream, we Enter into fiddles & ruin
& as we fumble after life, then swung ruins
Dance for a mitching folly; & five hot seas Strap doled angels around a cold
Swing of dates & apples
O
What with mental medicine in old kitchens & what with numbered kittens outdoors, then
Mazy men with penates miction
Pisses in a snapped stream;
& the harts of Pan suck liars from screens
& the sad outgrab
Coded colas & dreams & I have found a keen way to
Initiate bodies with a varicose eye�s nude
Snood of salts & water
.
As we shape a shaven cut for Closed pigged sea-wards
Then a bad bugging cat under scores
Paws & preens hot leeches & dulled doctors
.
O we leave behind us a lost flower Oh, we cede to rinds a sex-tower
& mimicries must mentalise
Digitalis & old Heaven.
*
Sss a kisser inside soap digs drips to sized Chiller veins
Sss O as a sweated sex loaf slices mute pain Then rodded lipped pokes suffer child wards
And the coded keen killers of the keen swarms Sink slinking fishy fingers inside
Raised dames, and, lost, loosening tree brides
Bang sauced seed where lobster-lies Leap honey and fish inside red rainbows
O, as a city horse harangues scarred brogues Then brutal bleached beauties
Bind gashes to grit-gulls, and foreign bodies
Bear bared bloods where Blonde bitches bend bairns inside stairs
And, ssss a wedded sex fern sucks loopy
Slayed sex kitchen?
O When widened summer miction heeds Halters, barns and naked tea leaves,
Then the royal blue babies of the sleeved Link painted pills to dogs, dads, and greed
Sss the caverns of the purpled penis pleads for
Vaginal clemencies But, fished from harness, holidays to wars
Whip horses and shave mules down, down,
And curled greased doilies drown a town
Ahh.
The coils of gems grind meat The soils of hens grind dreamt meat, and, o,
As daggering sealed skins Sample weed from cut bins, then soaped Downs
Delves baths with poles
-,
There is a vast city here O, here, in the past, a crazed cavy reveres
Dolls, dams, and crayons And I send my dinosaur to walls
And I wash my dimetrodon, and city palls
Punish pricked pictures
..
The ideal head has gone! The emptiness abed has gone! The idiom of neon crap has gone!
Oooo
Lotions inside false emotions Lash loss as salt blinds Ravel into dived
Blurred minds�
Ohm?...
ahhh
Wow, what with youths, nudes & cradle-vice
We must live upstairs Wow, what with veins, dudes & candle-Christs
We must live in hairs & we make up sin from skinny heirs
& we see a summer of lice Dreaming of a vaginal sea-height
^& the lords of green Hell
Hang loud tocsins from a funeral bell?
The god of chilled winter summons Ivy-bines & radio sirens
& the cods of quickened diamond Daub a dragger with alarms
& the screens of saviours harden
& the wolves of windows Shadow feral taxicabs.
Ambulant idols pray where sin Casts a crab upon
A tree of murder; O, as the sun Streams from deadened guns
Then mandarin currencies strum
Washy city guitars,
& we smoked all ruddy year & we choked on a bald tear
La
We must live in hollows &We must hear sex
break?
..
I stood against god�s jeep O, I lathered after gem-sleep
& the countries of my mind�s heapCombed a busman�s leer..
The wives of woollen dew had
Impassable rings - The widows of old stings
Cut a hairnet from Hero�s dad A time bomb had A city�s flag; & old sleep
Sent us to dreams of Islands & cabs
& the wives of the dew saw wheat Crying, crying,
Oh!?
The first fruited face we had Dappled under Dali
O the fierceness of space
Cut us
& we fell into the moon, & the sandmen of the mad Rode us unto Sunday
& the doctors of our tune
Rode a dilly space
Tut-tut-tut-tut� I espy a cold tent O I sleep out in a star
I espy a soft mint � ah, as my car Carries donuts West
Then diaries will teach the poor & dairies in a hill
Must read our wills-& starred scent
Leads us to blue water....The side of a mill has eyes O the birds in a frill
keep slides & when once mistress Aladdin
Drops a can in the rain Then we supper after Paladin
& whispering skeins Play pool with dollies
& a world at one out-grabs Daughters of teenaged brollies
Factories harvest old women.
Nunneries arrest rolled children
& odes to god�s navel
Dig steps with bestial eye-cradles.
The wags of stairs are filled &, la, the rags of prayers
Are wrapped in sylvan snares
& we swore for men
& we fed heels to hens; & moon heirs
Chauffeur Monks unto A green space where May�s shoe
Hobbles against pierced blued Bodied stasis
& a junky in a bed uses a metal bin
& the pigs of aces Grunt for spunk!!!!
Get off your horse & Drink your milks
Get off for the force & drink hot silks?- Millers weep for fire when spun wind
Swirls, swirls Get off your horse &
Drink your stilts
Get off- Lo- cum let reflection Dazzle prunes with sands
Lo hear now a cocking horse Swelled up by the juices of the city
Oo give a good hand To the gal on the piano
Ohh.
Let wisdom suck yon island?!!!
.
A wizardry of widows weds the body & the body bountiful listens to diddy
& a mean green mummy body Drives a sitar
Under churches, where ova under tar
Sink fish beneath Stinking crocus cigars.
Aqueous beauty paces O old viscous ladies peer from laces
& blind blondies Brag for mirrors�
We awoke with a mean start Then fell into the rain & the rest sucks
a jam tart. Uh ho ah ho ha Uh ho ah ha ha......
A-men!
Life that plods from home appears aglow with rain And a giddy life cries for
Slumbering heat and hired war�.
As a tall mean sea topples, then burials under pain Guides glitter outside
Sweet gables and soft writhe Law.
O a baby�s liquid age summons
Thunderheads.
*
O these threatened furled city forests fling guns where An ignorant flamed father
Encases slain scissors with suns and mothered air And the star-lit heavy seas
Hurl spheres from old lovers.
A movement, a skirl, slips a washed river as prayer Topples into sound.
*
As we teeter at a mine-head, then we realise coked air O, as a miner in a soft bed
Whimpers, then a town of inside drifted pitted lead
Lams coaled lichen.
A space where Pan met a digger�s meat, then music Enlivened bairns with fallowed debs
And, sundering by, a crib of dark shafts hears
Coded miner-men melting after
An idolised pit-quiver..
Odes to old galleries dig the North as fuelled sisters Travel Down down down
Underground, where elves unravel
Into faced blood.
*
And these are the sad lands where we made our urban fortune And here, as a bad lad dams air
Then an urban sea of hair
Cuts scissors from cartoons. The roaches of the spared
Clad ants inside blithe
Lasered sun, a
And a sliding father to red lies
Tells a tom-tale-tit for libelling nude slandering
Farmed broad-browed dives.
Bound in vine-leaved loveliness Sun-clad children chastise cunts with cloaks and grime
And a green cat creates
Canine kittens.
*
As yelling loud leas rip sin-clad children, then insane fakes Swell up for
Gaughan and Vincent
And, today, where a tearing bird cuts giddy winged lakes
Then a blithe bodice of sex-wars
Widen blonde beer, and, o,
Undersided by yo-yo, a bladed bomb of brakes
Hits bonnets as radiators
Glance vans from fiery hopped scents
.
When stone-encased bible bods preach a lone Thespian of bird
Then massive moulinex mouths blended nerves
With bodices and farthing-foams.
Bibbers found within gaped ginners guzzle old
Slapped cars and blue feathers.
*
As we peer from gentle eyes, we will come to know The slamming wife of lies
And the copious career of minds will come to blow
Five mongoloid massed bird-blinds
O
As we peep out of idiot waters, then we will show Five winds and one billion brogues
And bodying beer-hammered winey ditty crows
Must time-bomb fats and loaves
O
A hotel and a mean lover appear to sun-craze us And the bolted braves of combed cunt-rust cuts
Tar-jaunted jostlers of bridges
And then endless vermilion ramped sluts
Of all heavenly dumb dropped infant scarred
Salty sealed muck�
Just as when the son of Puck juiced up Then books of dung prove cocks under caps
Demonstrate that sex is a load of crap?
*
Dead dives we utilised when ashen ravines Leant on self and died
Have now vanished into machines, and a son of spies Verges deeply down to star-flaunted latrines
Where gulping wax-rides mount pinched pockets
With bums.
This intimate side of roots cuts samphire from
Loaned lifeless pity-puns
And blithe grimed gaoled galoshes suffer stunned
Bad bones and gum.
A sudden smoothed reel of radium will her Golden grapes and groped
Wood-riven starlings, and here and now, words
Stop, just like
An overladen dream.
*
When once we offered up nine fingers, then We wantonly suffered blind touch
as a meddled opened lovers blow crowed fuck
then
witnesses to ashtrays smoke cartel sea-struck
imploded musk.
For better and enhearsed, we dolly after draggling Dog messes and city lusts
And the ivories of oaken dollies must insist
That nylon kneaded breaded lisps
Lick a yeasty tongue from card bully-bits.
When first we offered us a car of creative writs Then a mad yet mild clitoris
Supped saline debts where sugary scattered men
Staunched swaggered bleeding
And the blue holidays of a keen wild harness
Cuts golfs from guilty chidden
Green gardy gilled gashed carved cat-piss.
Oh
*
Mean sand matrixes of girls and sunflowers Move inside blued stone
And sandy hissed closed worlds
Suck a lonely bitten bird from caged lost pearls
O
As the wives of one billion cars career after Blood-concertinas, then a hoard of fathers
Must jack malt rain as
Bad buddies study how to purely murder
Jointed limbed labia�
Before us, bladdering rocky popsongs Run ragged within sweet spies and lost guns
And vapid sprung sin
Teems a towed towel underneath us, and
Loaded drums hang huge floats where
Christ and judas listen to the air.
*
And I may well still hear a confined space where
You and I fell down love�s stair And I might well have to fear
World-warming wives who hiss inside god�s ear.
Too much mad life has been lived under Venomous city gossamer
All too many Christs have seen spun thunder
Spin, and
Old crabbed books of romantic spoiled Disingenuous spirit, and ghosts inside crammed
Gaoled cells
Lend fast tears to female land.
And, o, the prized prisoner of sin unloads us
And, ah, the lithe issuer of old skin sees dust
Drooling down the day.
Amen?
*
Hundreds of empty tears miraculously measure
Pied piggies
And, under a telepathic veil, as don of pleasure
Fills a good mind with schizophrenic bodies.
A witch�s brew melodiously jives for rivers
And, o, when once a reed of fire hears mirrors
Then shaven sodded summers
Fill a good head with Numbers.
As naked noiselessness wanes into fluids, then
Pushed diamond pussies
Are pulled from formless city cod and women
Rope peace with budded flash buddies?
Tata says the remedy whilst a keen family
Huddles within cherry hairs and paedophiles.
*
Hymens may well blow down where a town of graves
Dance for pluggy ranked naves
And, o, as Alonso de Saville dreams for old lays
Then Oscar the Wild widens away from
Dobby dollar guns.
Zillions of eyes eat into a fixing vale of days
And, ah, when one thousand Italian dog-graves
Gravel after the Mudarra of mad men shoot gums
Then wooded heels will
Sodomise Ma Mary�s cured crossed god-gill.
Is it perhaps the sudden moistening of eyes
That leads us to veins and babies?
*
And Spanish women swing-
Dancing while swaying, smoky smooched
Men and sin
Rock like a hanged gun.
Billions of eyes drag dope from brigs
And, o, where Italian children
Delve God, then
Rock raises cobs and silly seasons.
Whatever the songs of the dead
We will cut easy lays from sea-heads
And, sundering by,
Hooked nuclei jam sky,
*
Shouted from a cock, a terrible treed timeless clock
Spines aside timed graves
O a silent listlessness transforms sounds into ashes
And, laden with lays, a bogging bed of eye-flashes
Fill form with cow-caged lost rock.
Liquid hands tap on an amputated roof. Old days
Dream of languid fear. Cold naves burn beer
And the noose of Love enters voles into blue tears.
The kiss of sexy magic enhearses whored hashes
And the De Mudarra of a chapped church
Tramples deaths into soul. O, a beard of hurt
Prays for meat
And eyelids sunder sleep.
*
When once hissing magics cast conjuring gloom
A hat in a dove
Delves dogged clothed assisted magicked doom
And, o, we spiral down where a town of God
Cuts illusive death.
Under the wrenched silence of a tamed Love
A daubed sea cuts rods from tricked Loves
And, ah, a Vecchio of fastness sees blue drugs
Drawing dirt from leprous depths.
Liquid thumbs sink faces deep down death�s
Dolly side
And the Son of Pan sirens after dragging lies
..
A license of ridges raps on cunt as old wives
Stopper sex and knowing.
*
As a sex-farmed sea of arable oracles
Lend salt-charms to rocking tables
Then a laden star of arms shoots closed gables
O
Billions of eyes melodiously burn for
Cats and sin, and loud seas of war
Cut a shouldered lung
And a hyper-heel hears old claws
Crying for father�
And we may hear, nay, leer
Deeply down in a fast blue tear
And we may fear, nay, disappear
�
*O, i am whoring death now and eyes eat eagles as birds suck sand and
I am warring wading woman made from
soft charred cunts and
Lovers lead Lesbians into a salty span
Oh-.Fleshy felines feed familial females and skies spit twinned ties and males
meld milky maps with veins and veils
Ah-.
guilty geek gods grasp for grass and nails lead lost leaners to a crossed man
and I am a tree of horses and I am a Mad boy made from bees and waxy
islands
ohm-.
I kiss ice cold as tongues taste men.
.
*
Eyes told on you and your mamma when a golden blinded summer fed death to men and
i kiss a tree of cold as tongues taste sand
oo-.when once a sea of saviours feeds on Man
then, delving, a lea of lovers feeds Man
And god is dud and his son a mad man
AHH-.
Dirty boys in suet urine eat cud and sand falls where eyes of deserts growl with sand
and I am a breathing brother to god's land
OHM-.
old rivers rain from raping roses and I am a cutted cunt and I am a tree of sand
And gods are cast from caves as men land
Facedown in a tree of a green eyed island oo-
aHH-.
i am a flamed god and god is my sex sand
Oh-.
*
O, I am a sad sodden boy and I am A dud boy who eats veins from sand
o-.
i am a wet boy when I am sex and i am a dun boy who eats wed winds
and god is a romancing gashed guide
ah-.
Purple pealing peas feed skin to spind weeping wives when
horses heal halving fathers and men end, and I am a devil and wet men
oo-.
Gals taught me about the sun and I am a scattering sea of dumbs and
Mojo peals my prick as angels land
facedown in a tree of ghosts and Man
Ohm-.
Lady love is a losing lover and I am exited when rivers kiss my sky
AHH-.
*
And glad youth is torn away from bad sex as veins feed death to a hot gun and
lady sadie lover is a lousy loosing river and
I am a fled god and my god eats a cradle and
glad youth is torn away from cots as
cunny sees sex rise from raided vacant lots, and veins veer West as rivers are
closed in a sea of sexy sense and a star
o-.
I am in love with the crocodile and a cradling cussing car kisses shebirds and
I am a welling wound and sex is wed sand
Ah-. I smell fruits in flavours as farms end.
*
I eat hot wed weeping female flesh and gods feed on wetting sexy fishmen and
i smell strange fruits and my farm is sand
ah-.when once a caged moon eats a sun then man will feed on veins and islands and
i eat hot wed woman's flesh and
eyes eat eating skulls as eggs eat sand
castlers, and I am wet tree and I am sand
o-.
Shapeless formless gulls eat a sea of scams and I am a bled bearded seawind and crams
kiss a crying crawling cold as veins eat man
and god is a superman and man is a bad hand,
And furious firewinds kill a candle as sex dams dirt and I piss when chimneys eat sex
AHH-.
Gilt girls cry for sex as lovers eat T Rex
..
*
As hot whored widowers kiss a wiped cunt then, wailing in four seas, a tree of sex eats a
cold crawling coast where veins hear rats and
gilt girls glide for sex as rapists feed T Rex
and gods are space farmers and veins are sex
o-.
shapeless formless females feed gals with teetering topping teasy teens and I am with a
viney veining field where grass smokes kids
ah-.A cold sun is closed in kiddies as men end a
torn skull and bones bleed into men and sex
ends, and I am a wet wife and I am dun sex
oo-.
Crawling cavemen kill caves as men mitch and I am a capsizing sea of stoned selfsex
and I am a mad mad made from spaced sex
Ahh-.Gilt gods grasp grass as gullers eat minds
..
*
O, I eat pips from pissing pears and i am fruit familiar flame and men eat meteors and
golden gods kiss a sea of smashed sand
ohhh-.crawling cavemen kiss caves as stoned men
itch with spoiling clouds and seas eat cruel men
ahhh-.Faces float downstream as cut guns eat sin and I am a firewind and my eyes are sexy sin
Ohm-.
When once a candy castle floats from sin then, dressed in drags, treetop eats green
smashing swelled men and I am a hot scream
oh-.gods grasp grapes from freights and a dream
drags dolphins for dripped devilers and I am a tree of germolene and I am cut sand
OO-.
Ashes eat burned wars and I have a hot hand Ahh-.
Ohh-.Goldy goddies greet grassy gulls and I eat Man
o-aH-.i am thrilled with killers and i am deadened.
,,
?
*
Veins pluck penises and I am torn from a sex speeding hearing spoon and I am
wed to vile vented vampires and
I am filled with killers and god is a tree of mad sando-.
gods grasp grapes from freight and sense eats Man
and I live for a burnt and guns eat gulls and
Veins pluck penises and I am torn from a sexy voiding maw where sex ends
aHH-.
Guilty goddesses greet gulled grinded men as sex sleeps for drugged thought and sex scars
skylit lovers and the vines of soft sex hears Mars then, gone away, a leaf of losing lovers eats cars
,,
When once a meadow moves then fields farm forcing frames when child woman eats hot calmed
seas, and seas are raised from rotting rain and
I am a torn god and I am web of wept hands and
gliding ghosts kiss grass as countries eat England
oo-.
Ghouls are shot from the skull as bonemen end, and gashing graveyards kiss a stoneman
AHH-.
O-.
End..
*
kissing men feed gulls to glades and eyes eat soft guns as graves eat blades and
i am a fat weezel made hot with cavy cats and god is my Buddha and I am a sea of
losing leaming ladies and woman is mine
o-.
ghosts are cut from skulls as bonemen cross veins with crossing cries and ghosts are lost
Ahh-.
A miracle in a sun sends sex to solved loss and I am a happy hipster and I am a Cross
OO-.
When once a rabbit told me about a lost and lousy flusey Christ then my star
ended, and crying wolverines drive a car home, and grass is gassed as cars eat Mars
And I am a golden grave and I am the stars
Ohm-.
happy smashing steeples suck a sex vase
Ahh-.
Israel is a perfect void made from a glass
Ehh?
Ends..
..
*
O, I am a tree of mad men and sex falls into
cut whored seasas smacked men kiss a tree of blind brained smooths
and eyes eat the Thames when
mad boys bob from blenched screams and sex is a sea of wed nudes
ah-.
happy hipsters whoring worlds weep for dreams as slept sin moves
back home, and I am a gulled gawped fish and seamen sip my mood
and I am a dell of deep dead death and my eyes eat a sea of grooving
games and games feed gals to gulls as
veins veer West, and God is a smothering soapsud and men eat smooths
oH-,.
fey girls in a goosing wood feed cats to fat cranes as cut swallows ride
forcing fixing skies
and i must go to shut the suns of love or else find fear run me
When once a sea sucks water then
sliding seashores fall into a spind
wind, and fathers swim a sea's sins.
Leaping laughing seas end in sin.
*
Gilled kissing seas hiss and eyes are tides torn from castles and
leaping laughing rivers eat sailed stoned cut hot men and
i feed on a wet drowned child and
gods are my angled idiot angels
ah-.
when once a sea sucks water then skies slide into spying weeping men
and sinners seize a listening Thames
o-.
J Christ is a leper in a loud field and gods are gulls made guilty as men
and i am a wedded wolf made from
cold cut women and I feed on
a foaming foetus where rivers run home, home, home, home
Ohm-.
Riding dipping dampening rivers ride a raided storm and life listens
..
*
Gold penises shoot spunk in the moon and
golden graced vaginas shoot sweet sex religions when
man ate superman
and i am a hording viper whose sex slides and slithers when
dirty doorways open up a wet crack in a candle
and golden gaoling willies wed wives to four fast winds,
and I feed a gateway to a sea of spermed flowers and sex
winds away where adders slither off into
cunts, and the dampening dollies who feed veins to blurred
blue filmic forcing farms mete salty ships to cut curves
Oh-.
guilty ghostly seagulls eat a dryad from a dried wet sand
and i am a gilling grappling geizer trapped in a red sand
Ah-.
from out a seam of sleaze, a mad man feeds an island
and goddesses gleam with slease as mad kids kiss a
rotted deserted cut land where skinned up lasers feel for
Lions, and a sleeping snarling saviour sucks on weed
AHH-.
I sit in sleep as the stains of the dead soak into seed
and poking petrols piss gas as paraffin shoots soft seedy
ramming graves and hot cut hearts hit hot molds and I am
shed inside pled naves when churches kiss a praying man
OO-.
I fall into sleep as the sun wees in a a hot shut dream
..
*
A cut hot sun is opened when skies sail stars downstream and rivers run where men
kiss a glassy sky
and a hot wet vein spills from the stars when
?//
...
& these domed words I read & write
Lay green waste to rode robins. O, midnight
Lams a layered face with
Breaking bent bacon; & the kids inside pigs
Pace for birdy brawls.
Underneath a tree of nerds, we heat halls
& the maces of a starred nerve
Lock a wormy finger where a sea of brigs
Bangs bodies into stalls.
& the maces of a starred nerve
Lock a wormy finger where a sea of brigs
Bangs bodies into stalls.
Anxious peering pill-men rig
Stoned summer studies
& the baby in a pall
Will never end The Fall
& the ashes of stunned humans must recall
Red herds & mad Christs.
Stoned summer studies
& the baby in a pall
Will never end The Fall
& the ashes of stunned humans must recall
Red herds & mad Christs.
&,
lunged, we hit on swallows as dead light
Dips to shadow.
Dips to shadow.
*
& we shall dine with crocus eaters. o,
As lamping hilled men sup ooze
Then we shall dance for cactus reapers
& the duns of men dream of lotuses
& the birds of Eden scatter hands.
& we shall dine with crocus eaters. o,
As lamping hilled men sup ooze
Then we shall dance for cactus reapers
& the duns of men dream of lotuses
& the birds of Eden scatter hands.
& we shall dine with crocus eaters. o,
As glinted fathers drink news
Then we shall dagger after sunken Mumma
& the birds of Eden scatter loosed
Pattering plumed hens.
As glinted fathers drink news
Then we shall dagger after sunken Mumma
& the birds of Eden scatter loosed
Pattering plumed hens.
As the
sadness of blue thunder cracks
Hydras from ribbons
Then a blind TV teases old radio. Old
Issues of slammed lovers
Heap old dregs where cured souls
Rabbit down the summits of parted foals
..
Aside to the dead & dunged, a musing crier
Kills clocks with kiosk-killers
&, o, we are dear to crocus eaters
&, lo, we are searing from
Blue brides & distant cum.
Hydras from ribbons
Then a blind TV teases old radio. Old
Issues of slammed lovers
Heap old dregs where cured souls
Rabbit down the summits of parted foals
..
Aside to the dead & dunged, a musing crier
Kills clocks with kiosk-killers
&, o, we are dear to crocus eaters
&, lo, we are searing from
Blue brides & distant cum.
Eh?
*
In the sides of a nice naked dude, we will notice
The wild wives of navels. O, as a sea of faces
Fawns to death�s fed feather
Then, gun-found, a dreamer of lubes lams
Blue birds & body-money.
In the sides of a nice naked dude, we will notice
The wild wives of navels. O, as a sea of faces
Fawns to death�s fed feather
Then, gun-found, a dreamer of lubes lams
Blue birds & body-money.
Underneath Ides, a crocus-chewer cuts clams.
O, the cemented cemeteries of the shut dams
Odes to pissers;
& the nice slides of the sex-killed
Swarm slotted sunrises with lunatics.
O, the cemented cemeteries of the shut dams
Odes to pissers;
& the nice slides of the sex-killed
Swarm slotted sunrises with lunatics.
When once a knifed serum suppers after
Dolly drills & capped scissor-laughter
Then veiny tree-chapels toss shied cores where
Mother courage carries kids inside
Loamed dolls & mid-wives.
Dolly drills & capped scissor-laughter
Then veiny tree-chapels toss shied cores where
Mother courage carries kids inside
Loamed dolls & mid-wives.
I hear somewhen soon the jackass of
The sun, the rain, & the hairless gods of
Caged cunt�
The sun, the rain, & the hairless gods of
Caged cunt�
*
As a cagey canny killer rams down a river
Then worm-razors will
Rap daughters in dilly paper; & death�s mirror
Shines day against refractive night
O
As a cagey empty killer murders minds, then
Tawny crocus-cries will
Wrap worn fingers around a pissing hill
Lo
& the dames of Easter tip a cup; & wet men
Widen for pinned pled needles. Under women
We ride from shitted sleep
& we urinate upon a flex of wheat.
As a cagey canny killer rams down a river
Then worm-razors will
Rap daughters in dilly paper; & death�s mirror
Shines day against refractive night
O
As a cagey empty killer murders minds, then
Tawny crocus-cries will
Wrap worn fingers around a pissing hill
Lo
& the dames of Easter tip a cup; & wet men
Widen for pinned pled needles. Under women
We ride from shitted sleep
& we urinate upon a flex of wheat.
Where once a washy git guitar smokes a car
Then the tears of teemed flava
Fucks a veined snailed pistol; & cumming Mars
Sinks a pled picnic down a labia..
.
As a cagey cunty spiller slides up from hills
Then pottery pealed mothered dills
Sink salt swank where beds reel
& piss-petted porcelain
Ends, & saline cemeteries lend bud to shocked
Dairy dumb Alice.
Then the tears of teemed flava
Fucks a veined snailed pistol; & cumming Mars
Sinks a pled picnic down a labia..
.
As a cagey cunty spiller slides up from hills
Then pottery pealed mothered dills
Sink salt swank where beds reel
& piss-petted porcelain
Ends, & saline cemeteries lend bud to shocked
Dairy dumb Alice.
*
When once loud minnows turn to meadows
Then scalded lours of darkness will
Billow into sweat cunt. Under hills,
Struck dolphins pee in evil human eyes
O
& the rended sinner of the killed earns spies
& the emptied empires of damp & dry
Sunders washing babies
& the scented smell of rain lifts gay skies
& the loneliness of fathers
Craps within a crocus Venus
O
When once loud pillows smother paint then
Listening vampires dig bald gals where men
Shower invisible guns with
Tie-dyed dollar dares�
When once loud minnows turn to meadows
Then scalded lours of darkness will
Billow into sweat cunt. Under hills,
Struck dolphins pee in evil human eyes
O
& the rended sinner of the killed earns spies
& the emptied empires of damp & dry
Sunders washing babies
& the scented smell of rain lifts gay skies
& the loneliness of fathers
Craps within a crocus Venus
O
When once loud pillows smother paint then
Listening vampires dig bald gals where men
Shower invisible guns with
Tie-dyed dollar dares�
The laden leaders of the grave-mown
Vanish into hair.
o-ho!
...
*
What with windmills flowing under bivouacs of prayer,
We will surely notice grey houses under fear;
And true roads cure cars with caravans and, o,
When once we consider our true English martyrs
Then genoas under feathers will
Suffer a slighted sea of punches
� and eyes glow like killed
clever illness.
Ah, what with pulsed peeled tentacles
Avulsing passion and pain, you and I will
Lean inside a spoiled street
And counter-attract
Giddy tarmac.
*
O we searched under moonlight, clambering too high
And, sundered, our ocean kite died.
The mean blast of wind-slipped pools found our eyes
Eager to bleed and writhe.
Through shunted sired blue fields, we caught out
All well-read lovers who kissed for drought
And none of us, even if dead, understood the drive
For dills and diamonds.
O music scantified our sanctified allegiance to thought
And then skifflers scythed
Cut ritualised teacher wives
�
*
O and we curled up inside an abandoned dreaming suicide,
Corn-yellowed, ghosted by rapes and fierce forced skies,
Just like a pewter tree, we axed taught iron when
Ebonies strike ivories from
Rivers and guns.
Curled deep down inside a snotty knotted night-dress, I
Will summon a sound of sexy water
To swing under drips and clasped eyes
..
O, when once inside a mind, a trilled tale was told
Old men supped snappers from
huts and larders.
*
And an ionic shirking bed of beads
Bangs clamorous catted corn dolls from fields of reeds
And, when one wretching for closed keys,
Then jeerily joking by, a night-lit killer rides from
Cited eagerly eaten spot-lipped salt guns.
Where the silence of the local church gabs from
Renascence darts, then shabbiness under teas
Broil fished baits where Ponte Vecchio butters
A tawny teased tubed tongue,
And, o, as blown apart as true witches,
Male venuses vaunt after Florence and old suns.
O, underneath a Chinese sky, the sold saviour
Bustles after beer and star-layers
You and me.
*
When thunderheads spiral into space, then a wild drome
Is nailed into a church-chidden city-
To move, a masking venus will suck naves from
Bound sloth and sleep.
Trilled trees dip laxative leaves inside a rancid gun
And starry silver men scatter a swelled sun
Against luminaries and liquid statues.
Mean groom, jeered doom, sex-seasoning willows
Weep for reeling star-releasing weights of
Smirking cunt grapes
And a stagnant dilly doper�s encounter with
Robbed rocky headaches
Stops where startling summer
Appears dammed
Under rockeries and schooled thunder.
*
A sudden statement inside litter-ridden, mind-strewn
Spraying, vast and nude-arsed
Midland men sit astride a pup-bound wasted
City mask
And, faded into fingers, we eat up rheumed
Rods and cones
And, o, when closed eyes float to sleep, then
Transfixing fiery mind-moans
Ride a motorway where a scissor under ken
Tracks all mown men down
And, once frenched, then a caring cunt-clown
Grips giddy gills where closed caverns crown
Endlessness.
A rose-masted Venus holds a slide to a messed
Mentalising nudie
And wedded wights whip weaved death
And smittles under laired cock-crests
Drop a calmed candle in a cave of
Baited buttered bodies.
O gone to pure ugliness now, evening chanters slug
Brigs and ashes.
*
All
Allusive
Immense and bustling mini men
Suffer the dear and droned.
All
Massive
Intended and interned women
Suffer the seared and loaned
..
Columns underneath
Crazy vamping temples rend
Masted venuses
And
All kids who understand Bacchus
Appear to overpower
Jupiter and Mercury where
Old lamps swing in a gentleman�s chair�.
Irreligious, perhaps, or else fed to
Moon vixens
You and I will come to tear
Teenaged fish
And cunny colossus
Cuts
Religious pagan pled puts when
Sex plies for cabby crab women
..
�Are we near home now?�
,,
*
O all male light is negative �
Eyes have sown tears where empty sedatives
Paint luminous shadow with tree-trekked mind relatives.
The sired soul with cede will smack ghosts inside papers-
Eyes have thrown tears when empty expletives
Paint illumined kneeled fallows with sea-decked heart palatives
And, wound in willows, we hear the fierce sun turn
Westward, where a shrill scraper hazes up in burned
Hills and wine-negatives.
Where a pliant foetus in a sad rill rots and stops,
Then blenched bridled beer brides
Sup cocky cocoa.
*
And, pushed in a plod pram, a strange girl has walked
Inside a faceless pool where confinement�s coda stalks
Sowed shone illegitimate estranging orbs
in another mind, perhaps, we would plod for
scented lunches when the depths of school war
slivered across a keen lunar stalk
and we will perhaps try to cry
and, o, as we hear a cry of death riding
deep, deep inside
a schooled town where elderly kids arise
from out learned tributaries and moody messed haired lies
and a bruising gift of a slag
crunches on gamed bagged bully brass men
..
The prisoner within is hugging our student memories
As if teach-possessed by sucked spongiform
Flies and custards
And the local focal fascists who preach booked bastards
Will surely rock for never-forgotten-cane
And, lo, we hear a hollow school bell
Knelling in our tears where shone shoes and bad brains
Build us a bricking in of the boiling
And, uh, as first thirsty frenched kissers cram swelled
Uniformed echoers
Then dizzy wide whiteboards smarten verse-veiled
Musical mathematics
And we are shaped from a dumb earth where
Indolent spastic�s dinner spoons
Rock and rock deep inside a kidded classroom,
..
What with lies and damned lies and then autistics
Weebling their dumb way to coded school city, gymnastics
Drifts across empty grey emptying rooms,
With thinking ghosts confabulating inside private pupil�s sadness
..
..
Someday, too soon perhaps, the dyslexic in her poet tower
Will come kill us deviously?
Or is it more perhaps that bookish bowers
Cut all keen trees down?
I will chase after children on bared school stairs
I will tutor-chase all of us
Back home, when
The distant local past of keen staffed women
Shoot chalk
And keen staffed tutored gold men
Play happy as pulled staff stalk
Educative missiles
And the footers that shoot sacked lies
Snap a darkening field of
Caged taughtened teachings
And boggy blues stab shoed mind-mitching
Wide joys.
*
All too cold to suffer the punishments of
Ghastly gob, we walk inside sleep as river gods
Suck steel from our concrete devise, and, o, as gods
Darken, then sparkling seraphic bods
Shaft tarry self-sex down a tree of dogs.
O, the star-spilt subways where we made our salt mire
Shafts down ten pence as a placid mind
Decays into coals and Atlantic coke-grimed
Gulls and mined wine
And, when shudderingly inhaled, a peeling fag
Infuses puffed laurels with coaxed cigar drag�
Unfounded, we suckle ironed drawing-boards when
Peering stucco windows
Appear as if dunged from windy whipper meadows
Ah.
Bedded by bulldozers, danger, subvention and delusions
Take speech from skin
And thrill-entreat dumbed dogs and illusions
Voila!
...
Ash as we are, the enveloping sides of the rain
Taunts like a fiend
O as we star in Mars, then the developing seas of pain
Slap a tawny dream
&
We writhe for cream
& we falter under
Fistulas & sundered
Cock-climes..
Ash as we are, the tree-soaking meadow where men seem
Atoned by a screen
& odes to petalled plumes play for death &
Closed cabins cat
Canny lashes &
Bedheads bat
Dark dinners..
La
Potions under sin drag lady lakes for efts & cigars.
*
When once sad Alice should choose to wash my mind
Then caged cunt-spines
Will gaol me under
Drinkers- o
When once sad malice has tamed me, then blue tundra
Will certainly seem
Rocked in a dream..
&
Ashes under wives yawn for death
& fugues under sex
Wreck dolled draggers of cogs and self-deaths�
O
Entertained, massed men and city trains suck old rocks
& we will smoke for cherries
*
The sodden saline sofas of the dead dream after
Bled summer laughter
& the mirrors of the dead
Shine where Father
Pokes five eyes
O
The sodden sails of lovers send dogs to sleep as hereafter
Cremates burned wives!
&
As we serenade the killed
Then we will hear knives
Grinding salt from milled
Body-cocks!
The sudden death of brothers sends pugs to sleep as Lovers
Lend eyes to blind rock
Uh
*
When once I encounter the death of Man
Then I send whores to sleep
&
When once I surrender, then a body under Pan
Will sunder my mind�s deep
Dog of whores
O
Creepy killer jives jack a jazzy jolt where musical sun-wards
Cram crazy colds deep down inside---
& the sweet sides of old brides
Bomb city tillers
& the purse of Mary melds bells with celled summer�s chill leaders.
Uh
*
O as Alice sunders me, then I hear deaths in front of me
Sending skulls to sleep
as a palisade of sex reaps
teenaged delis, then old meat
parades after dragged
dick-bedded salty feet
Lo
As malice mates us with droves, then petalled pushers of peace
Build fast walls around
Blue palaces of dead sounds
O
& the oinked vans of wheat
Harvest red code
& the junked hands of sleep
Wed fists to cunt-clothes
--
When once above a time, me and ashes whined, then old Rhodes
Stops sex dead.
*
Hashing holdalls where we laid our city guise
Rocks for vines and wives
O
& the sands of rivals build kiddy castles where a sea of brides
Rocks for the midnight train
& ashes under clashes
Thunder-reap saline wives
& the winters of the killed
Claim cunt from cheesed
Sedans ..
Ahh
I am burned each year & hairy heights hammer halls to edams
&
Sanded skulls summon
Dead-headed diamond
& the dogs inside wigwams
House holy native Americans inside vast feathers - Lo
Kind killer scissors will can
Sidling brain whizzers
& when once molten hands
Caress a cancan
Then lightnings will ignite cemeteries & shovelled pig-rammed
Radioed rodeos�
Widening kiss-flaps
Splay outside my world
& videos of farrago
Shatter
Now!
*
A splaying sun of lust spread-eagles dogs and dust-rain
O a city�s optic train
Teases wayfarers, then
Eaten sun-visors shred old breads where opals inside gardens
Lash loaves to fishy garlands
& when odes to ribbons
Lay blue-waste to gibbons
Then a blithe bone of shoots hires bootless cries where sirens
Snap sawn brigands & females
Shoot fatal monkeys
& caging killer honeys
Coop Alice in wept valleys
O
When once eager Malice cuts closed tongues then wet mental bodies
Hiss for naked Master Hades
& bad budders bunch gags for
Neon city wards.
*
The wives of ragwort witches cast city spells against blue eyes
s a bad sky summons spelled fools
then keen dark-hatted cats
clamber against the Shibboleth of
hexagrams & cold nudes
o
the eyes of rag-bitches lend posies to foxes
& the demeaning dogs of horses
Land insanity�s voices
&, uh, I espy a wicked nude
& the lanterns of the rude
Sweat skate-optics
Uh
We have been caged under
Annals of blue thunder
& the fact that sex seems dead
Rocks a radar in our beds
& headmost mounted father
Carries us way back home where the killers of evening scatter
Sunny lunar powder�.
Widening vast bats build rat-cats where dunny demons rattle
Vecchio &
Dinning supper eats metal!
Oh?
*
An occidental sun of Christ claims god from giddy Gide
& the riders of a veined Love
Send blurred fathers within dogs and drugs
Lo
& the vineyard snails under wept Leaves dub
Fanned loud musical rubbed
Rickety mamma Mod!
Incidental fountains leach to the thunderhead
& the dugs of darlings
Drool outside a leaping salt-star! We disown now all wives & all gods.
*
�
Oh when once keen Alice leaps into my eyes, then
Old bitumen will send sex sapphires
& the darksome chasm of death
Lends sparrows to water?.
~& as for deadly nightshades there must be
A curling wonderland when
Cannabis & mind-fever
Fashions a mad hare with bared
Cogging mad-hatted kid-rivers..
& when once keen Alice sleeps inside my mind
The snaky card-playing Kings & Queens
Sends carols to invidious cock-crimes
,.]
O
*
Dreams which howl and shriek outside lights
Stare into a haloed nights
& oozing killers suffer skin as naked life
Lips after synchronised bodies
The fathers of the West
Rush aside the hunted
& daubing demons dribble after
Lapped kips and souls
- O
Our life�s Waldron
Speaks in silly tongues &
Dilly donkey caps curve away where midnight�s maid
Sallies birds with baby-curd?
Lashwide statues sprawl
Ah a lumbering lewd hall falls
Away.
/ *
A spray of seed flexes under pearls?
Vanish into hair.
o-ho!
...
*
What with windmills flowing under bivouacs of prayer,
We will surely notice grey houses under fear;
And true roads cure cars with caravans and, o,
When once we consider our true English martyrs
Then genoas under feathers will
Suffer a slighted sea of punches
� and eyes glow like killed
clever illness.
Ah, what with pulsed peeled tentacles
Avulsing passion and pain, you and I will
Lean inside a spoiled street
And counter-attract
Giddy tarmac.
*
O we searched under moonlight, clambering too high
And, sundered, our ocean kite died.
The mean blast of wind-slipped pools found our eyes
Eager to bleed and writhe.
Through shunted sired blue fields, we caught out
All well-read lovers who kissed for drought
And none of us, even if dead, understood the drive
For dills and diamonds.
O music scantified our sanctified allegiance to thought
And then skifflers scythed
Cut ritualised teacher wives
�
*
O and we curled up inside an abandoned dreaming suicide,
Corn-yellowed, ghosted by rapes and fierce forced skies,
Just like a pewter tree, we axed taught iron when
Ebonies strike ivories from
Rivers and guns.
Curled deep down inside a snotty knotted night-dress, I
Will summon a sound of sexy water
To swing under drips and clasped eyes
..
O, when once inside a mind, a trilled tale was told
Old men supped snappers from
huts and larders.
*
And an ionic shirking bed of beads
Bangs clamorous catted corn dolls from fields of reeds
And, when one wretching for closed keys,
Then jeerily joking by, a night-lit killer rides from
Cited eagerly eaten spot-lipped salt guns.
Where the silence of the local church gabs from
Renascence darts, then shabbiness under teas
Broil fished baits where Ponte Vecchio butters
A tawny teased tubed tongue,
And, o, as blown apart as true witches,
Male venuses vaunt after Florence and old suns.
O, underneath a Chinese sky, the sold saviour
Bustles after beer and star-layers
You and me.
*
When thunderheads spiral into space, then a wild drome
Is nailed into a church-chidden city-
To move, a masking venus will suck naves from
Bound sloth and sleep.
Trilled trees dip laxative leaves inside a rancid gun
And starry silver men scatter a swelled sun
Against luminaries and liquid statues.
Mean groom, jeered doom, sex-seasoning willows
Weep for reeling star-releasing weights of
Smirking cunt grapes
And a stagnant dilly doper�s encounter with
Robbed rocky headaches
Stops where startling summer
Appears dammed
Under rockeries and schooled thunder.
*
A sudden statement inside litter-ridden, mind-strewn
Spraying, vast and nude-arsed
Midland men sit astride a pup-bound wasted
City mask
And, faded into fingers, we eat up rheumed
Rods and cones
And, o, when closed eyes float to sleep, then
Transfixing fiery mind-moans
Ride a motorway where a scissor under ken
Tracks all mown men down
And, once frenched, then a caring cunt-clown
Grips giddy gills where closed caverns crown
Endlessness.
A rose-masted Venus holds a slide to a messed
Mentalising nudie
And wedded wights whip weaved death
And smittles under laired cock-crests
Drop a calmed candle in a cave of
Baited buttered bodies.
O gone to pure ugliness now, evening chanters slug
Brigs and ashes.
*
All
Allusive
Immense and bustling mini men
Suffer the dear and droned.
All
Massive
Intended and interned women
Suffer the seared and loaned
..
Columns underneath
Crazy vamping temples rend
Masted venuses
And
All kids who understand Bacchus
Appear to overpower
Jupiter and Mercury where
Old lamps swing in a gentleman�s chair�.
Irreligious, perhaps, or else fed to
Moon vixens
You and I will come to tear
Teenaged fish
And cunny colossus
Cuts
Religious pagan pled puts when
Sex plies for cabby crab women
..
�Are we near home now?�
,,
*
O all male light is negative �
Eyes have sown tears where empty sedatives
Paint luminous shadow with tree-trekked mind relatives.
The sired soul with cede will smack ghosts inside papers-
Eyes have thrown tears when empty expletives
Paint illumined kneeled fallows with sea-decked heart palatives
And, wound in willows, we hear the fierce sun turn
Westward, where a shrill scraper hazes up in burned
Hills and wine-negatives.
Where a pliant foetus in a sad rill rots and stops,
Then blenched bridled beer brides
Sup cocky cocoa.
*
And, pushed in a plod pram, a strange girl has walked
Inside a faceless pool where confinement�s coda stalks
Sowed shone illegitimate estranging orbs
in another mind, perhaps, we would plod for
scented lunches when the depths of school war
slivered across a keen lunar stalk
and we will perhaps try to cry
and, o, as we hear a cry of death riding
deep, deep inside
a schooled town where elderly kids arise
from out learned tributaries and moody messed haired lies
and a bruising gift of a slag
crunches on gamed bagged bully brass men
..
The prisoner within is hugging our student memories
As if teach-possessed by sucked spongiform
Flies and custards
And the local focal fascists who preach booked bastards
Will surely rock for never-forgotten-cane
And, lo, we hear a hollow school bell
Knelling in our tears where shone shoes and bad brains
Build us a bricking in of the boiling
And, uh, as first thirsty frenched kissers cram swelled
Uniformed echoers
Then dizzy wide whiteboards smarten verse-veiled
Musical mathematics
And we are shaped from a dumb earth where
Indolent spastic�s dinner spoons
Rock and rock deep inside a kidded classroom,
..
What with lies and damned lies and then autistics
Weebling their dumb way to coded school city, gymnastics
Drifts across empty grey emptying rooms,
With thinking ghosts confabulating inside private pupil�s sadness
..
..
Someday, too soon perhaps, the dyslexic in her poet tower
Will come kill us deviously?
Or is it more perhaps that bookish bowers
Cut all keen trees down?
I will chase after children on bared school stairs
I will tutor-chase all of us
Back home, when
The distant local past of keen staffed women
Shoot chalk
And keen staffed tutored gold men
Play happy as pulled staff stalk
Educative missiles
And the footers that shoot sacked lies
Snap a darkening field of
Caged taughtened teachings
And boggy blues stab shoed mind-mitching
Wide joys.
*
All too cold to suffer the punishments of
Ghastly gob, we walk inside sleep as river gods
Suck steel from our concrete devise, and, o, as gods
Darken, then sparkling seraphic bods
Shaft tarry self-sex down a tree of dogs.
O, the star-spilt subways where we made our salt mire
Shafts down ten pence as a placid mind
Decays into coals and Atlantic coke-grimed
Gulls and mined wine
And, when shudderingly inhaled, a peeling fag
Infuses puffed laurels with coaxed cigar drag�
Unfounded, we suckle ironed drawing-boards when
Peering stucco windows
Appear as if dunged from windy whipper meadows
Ah.
Bedded by bulldozers, danger, subvention and delusions
Take speech from skin
And thrill-entreat dumbed dogs and illusions
Voila!
...
Ash as we are, the enveloping sides of the rain
Taunts like a fiend
O as we star in Mars, then the developing seas of pain
Slap a tawny dream
&
We writhe for cream
& we falter under
Fistulas & sundered
Cock-climes..
Ash as we are, the tree-soaking meadow where men seem
Atoned by a screen
& odes to petalled plumes play for death &
Closed cabins cat
Canny lashes &
Bedheads bat
Dark dinners..
La
Potions under sin drag lady lakes for efts & cigars.
*
When once sad Alice should choose to wash my mind
Then caged cunt-spines
Will gaol me under
Drinkers- o
When once sad malice has tamed me, then blue tundra
Will certainly seem
Rocked in a dream..
&
Ashes under wives yawn for death
& fugues under sex
Wreck dolled draggers of cogs and self-deaths�
O
Entertained, massed men and city trains suck old rocks
& we will smoke for cherries
*
The sodden saline sofas of the dead dream after
Bled summer laughter
& the mirrors of the dead
Shine where Father
Pokes five eyes
O
The sodden sails of lovers send dogs to sleep as hereafter
Cremates burned wives!
&
As we serenade the killed
Then we will hear knives
Grinding salt from milled
Body-cocks!
The sudden death of brothers sends pugs to sleep as Lovers
Lend eyes to blind rock
Uh
*
When once I encounter the death of Man
Then I send whores to sleep
&
When once I surrender, then a body under Pan
Will sunder my mind�s deep
Dog of whores
O
Creepy killer jives jack a jazzy jolt where musical sun-wards
Cram crazy colds deep down inside---
& the sweet sides of old brides
Bomb city tillers
& the purse of Mary melds bells with celled summer�s chill leaders.
Uh
*
O as Alice sunders me, then I hear deaths in front of me
Sending skulls to sleep
as a palisade of sex reaps
teenaged delis, then old meat
parades after dragged
dick-bedded salty feet
Lo
As malice mates us with droves, then petalled pushers of peace
Build fast walls around
Blue palaces of dead sounds
O
& the oinked vans of wheat
Harvest red code
& the junked hands of sleep
Wed fists to cunt-clothes
--
When once above a time, me and ashes whined, then old Rhodes
Stops sex dead.
*
Hashing holdalls where we laid our city guise
Rocks for vines and wives
O
& the sands of rivals build kiddy castles where a sea of brides
Rocks for the midnight train
& ashes under clashes
Thunder-reap saline wives
& the winters of the killed
Claim cunt from cheesed
Sedans ..
Ahh
I am burned each year & hairy heights hammer halls to edams
&
Sanded skulls summon
Dead-headed diamond
& the dogs inside wigwams
House holy native Americans inside vast feathers - Lo
Kind killer scissors will can
Sidling brain whizzers
& when once molten hands
Caress a cancan
Then lightnings will ignite cemeteries & shovelled pig-rammed
Radioed rodeos�
Widening kiss-flaps
Splay outside my world
& videos of farrago
Shatter
Now!
*
A splaying sun of lust spread-eagles dogs and dust-rain
O a city�s optic train
Teases wayfarers, then
Eaten sun-visors shred old breads where opals inside gardens
Lash loaves to fishy garlands
& when odes to ribbons
Lay blue-waste to gibbons
Then a blithe bone of shoots hires bootless cries where sirens
Snap sawn brigands & females
Shoot fatal monkeys
& caging killer honeys
Coop Alice in wept valleys
O
When once eager Malice cuts closed tongues then wet mental bodies
Hiss for naked Master Hades
& bad budders bunch gags for
Neon city wards.
*
The wives of ragwort witches cast city spells against blue eyes
s a bad sky summons spelled fools
then keen dark-hatted cats
clamber against the Shibboleth of
hexagrams & cold nudes
o
the eyes of rag-bitches lend posies to foxes
& the demeaning dogs of horses
Land insanity�s voices
&, uh, I espy a wicked nude
& the lanterns of the rude
Sweat skate-optics
Uh
We have been caged under
Annals of blue thunder
& the fact that sex seems dead
Rocks a radar in our beds
& headmost mounted father
Carries us way back home where the killers of evening scatter
Sunny lunar powder�.
Widening vast bats build rat-cats where dunny demons rattle
Vecchio &
Dinning supper eats metal!
Oh?
*
An occidental sun of Christ claims god from giddy Gide
& the riders of a veined Love
Send blurred fathers within dogs and drugs
Lo
& the vineyard snails under wept Leaves dub
Fanned loud musical rubbed
Rickety mamma Mod!
Incidental fountains leach to the thunderhead
& the dugs of darlings
Drool outside a leaping salt-star! We disown now all wives & all gods.
*
�
Oh when once keen Alice leaps into my eyes, then
Old bitumen will send sex sapphires
& the darksome chasm of death
Lends sparrows to water?.
~& as for deadly nightshades there must be
A curling wonderland when
Cannabis & mind-fever
Fashions a mad hare with bared
Cogging mad-hatted kid-rivers..
& when once keen Alice sleeps inside my mind
The snaky card-playing Kings & Queens
Sends carols to invidious cock-crimes
,.]
O
*
Dreams which howl and shriek outside lights
Stare into a haloed nights
& oozing killers suffer skin as naked life
Lips after synchronised bodies
The fathers of the West
Rush aside the hunted
& daubing demons dribble after
Lapped kips and souls
- O
Our life�s Waldron
Speaks in silly tongues &
Dilly donkey caps curve away where midnight�s maid
Sallies birds with baby-curd?
Lashwide statues sprawl
Ah a lumbering lewd hall falls
Away.
/ *
A spray of seed flexes under pearls?
...
copyright
jim bellamy 2019
**
ISLE OFSIN (by jim Bellamy)
(after TS Eliot)
As my eyes turn to a fairy screen, then
Missing old lies burn like a dream
And, lo, lone night burns like women as veiled shows in a dial
Scream of Deadly Isle
And the boats should change when sickness heals the dead
And the spatial smile
Rocks, rocks, rocks….
as my eyes turn to a fairy screen, then
hissing cold lives storm kids and veined clocks
uh
I turn to go but my head hears sound
Lo, I summon snow but my minds burn, and a dilly wasteground
Dams dogs with rivers
O
Ivories drink from ebonies, and webbed drummers feel
Fast veins and bald bodies
Sss endless shrinks hear dromedaries cutting weals
And my love gives in to a
Colour mind
Sss
Aahh
Lahhh
As my eyes turn to a fairy screen
I learn just what the pharaohs mean, and sky sees cars
Collapsing
And sex cuts a spun wind
And gods crusade for pigs and hymns
I espy laden gardens crying for hot rain?
*
The day when I met a mad maid then I swam for
Amazing children
Lo, the night when I met cold graves then I span for
Impossible women
And the glib guise of god gobbles hallowed war
And the slid mind of god wobbles after
Rooms of pure laughter
And, ho,
In the moon the women come and go
Talking of Michael Miccalo
And this sunned stunned day where I hear a rose
Glowing, then
Bad cars will roar for rotted manacled gun-clothed
Dolly sirens
Pushing belly men drag dogs
Kissing scissor skin cuts robed loss, and blue orisons
Sweat for grinded teased loves
The high moon plays dead?
..
*
As I summon pealed water, then heels on the move
Dress up in purple skein
As I suffer enhearsed daughters
Then soft seals sunder bullets and hissed water
La
The dogs under fire cum for thunder, and trains
Trip, trip
Ah-hahhh
In the room, shawled alarms eat blued cars where
Starred spoons measure prayer
And the doctors of Dom Daniel dream upstairs
And the women speak of bulls and snares.
…
Budders bind cunt to coconuts
Ha, fathers find junk, and lidded soaped sluts
Suck, suck, suck
In a green sun, we will hear a fairy fuck
clowned
in dreamt guns, we hear lady smut
wedding whips to drowned
city eels
--
the dogs outdoors call for sealed drips
the kids in stores
spend lost pennies, and quaffed lips
strip hot slips
and in the room, the women come and go
speaking of Michael Indigo
…
------the pigs of time tickle god’s ribs
The kids of time fade for cribbed
City ashes
And ashes cry, cry,
And flashes reap wide wives, and, under a Sunday show
Glib crowds ride
Active Rome, and aromatic horsed guns shoot crows
Sss
The dolts of the livid dead
Dam drams with shaved heads – lo
The colts of the ridden dead
Dam clams with fished beds, and sentinels of mermen
Carry noosed clam-shells where
Ashes hoop despising mamma air
And sun gets in our hair
…
Where the embers of mermaids swell
Then insidious lovers will bury fish in seashells
Where the saviours of gold graves shut hell
Then insidious fathers will bury grey cells
And the hand hanged from the wall
Hammers skies into aviaries
The pealed pistoling palps of a dead hall
Suffer lips and flowers.
!!!
The droning spectres in a caul
Cut breasts and cunt
The seizing minute of an hour cuts bread dolls
And miniature scissor spunk
Digs veins where lanes burn
Sss
Under napes, a snickering neck hears the moon’s limit
Lashing lords to urns,
Under snakes, a sickening neck hears the sun’s planet
Crashing, crashing
Eh, where old samphire stews, the febrile sea weed
Will hear sex clashing for
Dolls and fathers
Ahhh?
*
Oh, we will suffer sex silk until the very end,
Laaa we shall lead light to laughter as mad gay friends
Telephone
Ahh we will suffer swirled milks as the sun’s rend
Radios droll skulls
Ahh
Filled with Dettol, a serial sun robber rubs pinned
Gabbed bodies
Lay shrilled, a settee in a red gun snubs sex limbed
Hocus babies
And in the room the women come and go
Speaking of Michael Buffalo.
-
The slain scathed stars of sex fail to fall, sss,
The veiny vast red cars of death concertina, and, under fists,
Fowled bobbies bug
Impossible fires
Sss
We measure our cries with curling tongs
We pleasure our lies with baking tongues, and, laaaa,
Eyes under plies piss for
Cocoas and milk wards.
*
As the veiled dolls of elves succour eyes
Then sailed wicked lies
Lam lyons with heated gardens as spread tides
Rage after blazed school-ties
And the bended molls of elves succour wide
Wizening purblind snow-drilled sea cries
And we treasure molten grass
-
In the rooms the children come and go
Weeping for saint Antonio
In the rooms, the chicken come and flow from
Pearled egged rain
…..
Rainbowed razors rasp!!!
,.
*
The daggering fasting father men I once saw in a
False hill has a female beard
O- sundering, as lisping grey tears ride, then old war
Whispers and whimpers
La the meadowings of crying lovers sire a green tear when
Crying members mocked
Old turnstiles,
Ahhh this isle of sin topples weird angular angels
Ahhh this smile of women
Trickles, and loaded nipples see
Draining seashores lamming droned drowned bees
In the wounded high trees
A banged bound blithe dolled city
Dreams of daisy pie, and mental molls plait hair as rabies
Rocks for dog Christ
..
In the tomb, sold men come and go
In a salt wound, cold hens lunge and crow for
Dilly demons.
*
In the bar, with elvis crying, I thought I saw death die
the rollocking romancers of the killed must
sweat rock as sexed coaxed dick dusts dribble after
body becks and blown lusts
and in the bar, with elvis dying, I thought I saw death writhe-
a feisty face of pigs grunts for nudes
a lacy saucerful hunts for keen dressed fools
and the cages under cunt
career where slapped sawn spunk spoons
dig for jelly dunes…
wounded wolverines weep for junk
endstopped salt tureens feed off hunched
notched sea ropers,
and a rude merman strides blanked blue tides
and we sail for lost mamma as flat earth
dies.
??...
(after TS Eliot)
As my eyes turn to a fairy screen, then
Missing old lies burn like a dream
And, lo, lone night burns like women as veiled shows in a dial
Scream of Deadly Isle
And the boats should change when sickness heals the dead
And the spatial smile
Rocks, rocks, rocks….
as my eyes turn to a fairy screen, then
hissing cold lives storm kids and veined clocks
uh
I turn to go but my head hears sound
Lo, I summon snow but my minds burn, and a dilly wasteground
Dams dogs with rivers
O
Ivories drink from ebonies, and webbed drummers feel
Fast veins and bald bodies
Sss endless shrinks hear dromedaries cutting weals
And my love gives in to a
Colour mind
Sss
Aahh
Lahhh
As my eyes turn to a fairy screen
I learn just what the pharaohs mean, and sky sees cars
Collapsing
And sex cuts a spun wind
And gods crusade for pigs and hymns
I espy laden gardens crying for hot rain?
*
The day when I met a mad maid then I swam for
Amazing children
Lo, the night when I met cold graves then I span for
Impossible women
And the glib guise of god gobbles hallowed war
And the slid mind of god wobbles after
Rooms of pure laughter
And, ho,
In the moon the women come and go
Talking of Michael Miccalo
And this sunned stunned day where I hear a rose
Glowing, then
Bad cars will roar for rotted manacled gun-clothed
Dolly sirens
Pushing belly men drag dogs
Kissing scissor skin cuts robed loss, and blue orisons
Sweat for grinded teased loves
The high moon plays dead?
..
*
As I summon pealed water, then heels on the move
Dress up in purple skein
As I suffer enhearsed daughters
Then soft seals sunder bullets and hissed water
La
The dogs under fire cum for thunder, and trains
Trip, trip
Ah-hahhh
In the room, shawled alarms eat blued cars where
Starred spoons measure prayer
And the doctors of Dom Daniel dream upstairs
And the women speak of bulls and snares.
…
Budders bind cunt to coconuts
Ha, fathers find junk, and lidded soaped sluts
Suck, suck, suck
In a green sun, we will hear a fairy fuck
clowned
in dreamt guns, we hear lady smut
wedding whips to drowned
city eels
--
the dogs outdoors call for sealed drips
the kids in stores
spend lost pennies, and quaffed lips
strip hot slips
and in the room, the women come and go
speaking of Michael Indigo
…
------the pigs of time tickle god’s ribs
The kids of time fade for cribbed
City ashes
And ashes cry, cry,
And flashes reap wide wives, and, under a Sunday show
Glib crowds ride
Active Rome, and aromatic horsed guns shoot crows
Sss
The dolts of the livid dead
Dam drams with shaved heads – lo
The colts of the ridden dead
Dam clams with fished beds, and sentinels of mermen
Carry noosed clam-shells where
Ashes hoop despising mamma air
And sun gets in our hair
…
Where the embers of mermaids swell
Then insidious lovers will bury fish in seashells
Where the saviours of gold graves shut hell
Then insidious fathers will bury grey cells
And the hand hanged from the wall
Hammers skies into aviaries
The pealed pistoling palps of a dead hall
Suffer lips and flowers.
!!!
The droning spectres in a caul
Cut breasts and cunt
The seizing minute of an hour cuts bread dolls
And miniature scissor spunk
Digs veins where lanes burn
Sss
Under napes, a snickering neck hears the moon’s limit
Lashing lords to urns,
Under snakes, a sickening neck hears the sun’s planet
Crashing, crashing
Eh, where old samphire stews, the febrile sea weed
Will hear sex clashing for
Dolls and fathers
Ahhh?
*
Oh, we will suffer sex silk until the very end,
Laaa we shall lead light to laughter as mad gay friends
Telephone
Ahh we will suffer swirled milks as the sun’s rend
Radios droll skulls
Ahh
Filled with Dettol, a serial sun robber rubs pinned
Gabbed bodies
Lay shrilled, a settee in a red gun snubs sex limbed
Hocus babies
And in the room the women come and go
Speaking of Michael Buffalo.
-
The slain scathed stars of sex fail to fall, sss,
The veiny vast red cars of death concertina, and, under fists,
Fowled bobbies bug
Impossible fires
Sss
We measure our cries with curling tongs
We pleasure our lies with baking tongues, and, laaaa,
Eyes under plies piss for
Cocoas and milk wards.
*
As the veiled dolls of elves succour eyes
Then sailed wicked lies
Lam lyons with heated gardens as spread tides
Rage after blazed school-ties
And the bended molls of elves succour wide
Wizening purblind snow-drilled sea cries
And we treasure molten grass
-
In the rooms the children come and go
Weeping for saint Antonio
In the rooms, the chicken come and flow from
Pearled egged rain
…..
Rainbowed razors rasp!!!
,.
*
The daggering fasting father men I once saw in a
False hill has a female beard
O- sundering, as lisping grey tears ride, then old war
Whispers and whimpers
La the meadowings of crying lovers sire a green tear when
Crying members mocked
Old turnstiles,
Ahhh this isle of sin topples weird angular angels
Ahhh this smile of women
Trickles, and loaded nipples see
Draining seashores lamming droned drowned bees
In the wounded high trees
A banged bound blithe dolled city
Dreams of daisy pie, and mental molls plait hair as rabies
Rocks for dog Christ
..
In the tomb, sold men come and go
In a salt wound, cold hens lunge and crow for
Dilly demons.
*
In the bar, with elvis crying, I thought I saw death die
the rollocking romancers of the killed must
sweat rock as sexed coaxed dick dusts dribble after
body becks and blown lusts
and in the bar, with elvis dying, I thought I saw death writhe-
a feisty face of pigs grunts for nudes
a lacy saucerful hunts for keen dressed fools
and the cages under cunt
career where slapped sawn spunk spoons
dig for jelly dunes…
wounded wolverines weep for junk
endstopped salt tureens feed off hunched
notched sea ropers,
and a rude merman strides blanked blue tides
and we sail for lost mamma as flat earth
dies.
??...
...
copyright jd bellamy 2018
...
DEAD THOUGHTS FOR THE APENECK THINKER? by Jim Bellamy
I
Because I cannot hope to think again
Because all thought deludes me
Because I cannot hope to think again
Knowing no fear nor any place for idea
I cannot fear nor any thought is mine
To make my own
Because the thought is dead and all thought is real
Because I cannot hope to ever know
The ideals of the sutlers who sleep next-door
Because all thought is first transitive then neutral
Knowing no terror nor any fear to mind
Because I cannot fear and because all fear is predication
Knowing no art of mind nor any thought to feel
Because I cannot feel and because man cannot come
To rend away such thought prophesies predication
The ideals of the sutlers who live next-door
Can never come to idealise the rain
And the rain in this dead place is delighted by
No thought as the thought is philophrengenitive
Because the nuance of the moon retains no thought
And as much as the thoughts of the moon are dead
In this room of white where curtains trangress modesty
The revelation of the soul lies hidden in the mind
Because thought cannot dare to think the silent thoughts
Of the arcane lords who whisper at my window
Because all thought is curated by a lunar shadow
And the eyes within eyes cannot dare to conceive
Of revelation nor the brain in its transitive modesty
Can sharpen thought, the searing of the brain
Must shend to dust all nihilism and promise
For this is the land where the indolents wail
And the banshees in the towns divurge from screaming
To shackle the thoughts of the children in the schools
And the schools are grammarians who teach bad words
And the grammar of the mind transgresses all truth
Because uncouth thought is the mentor to the sun
And the sun is denied by transmutative modesty
(As much as light must whip all thought to neural ecstasy)
In this coiled heart where ideas rit to nothing
All forms of thought as sapient sutlers groove
The wildness of the mind is ritten and each rit thought
Recants on its fables and discourses on denial
Under the penitential stairs where all thought lies raped
Because all thought is superfetation and because all thought is burned
Black by superfetation and because all ideas are forfeit
For the sutlers who live next-door and the cliff where thought is made
No excess of ideas may shut the words of thought away
Nor any thought in enervation may lift the latch on life
To reveal good thought: devaluation of the mind
Must come to speak aloud about the apeneck thoughts
And the mind inside a mind must mutate to transverse fearing
Because all thought is live so long as death permits it
Because all deaths are holograms with no real thought
As the wildness of the mind is ritten by its death
So the end of the word must be ritten by the mind
And the mind inside a mind must strip all sapience bare.
Because I cannot hope to think again
Because all thought deludes me
Because I cannot hope to think again
Knowing no fear nor any place for idea
I cannot fear nor any thought is mine
To make my own
Because the thought is dead and all thought is real
Because I cannot hope to ever know
The ideals of the sutlers who sleep next-door
Because all thought is first transitive then neutral
Knowing no terror nor any fear to mind
Because I cannot fear and because all fear is predication
Knowing no art of mind nor any thought to feel
Because I cannot feel and because man cannot come
To rend away such thought prophesies predication
The ideals of the sutlers who live next-door
Can never come to idealise the rain
And the rain in this dead place is delighted by
No thought as the thought is philophrengenitive
Because the nuance of the moon retains no thought
And as much as the thoughts of the moon are dead
In this room of white where curtains trangress modesty
The revelation of the soul lies hidden in the mind
Because thought cannot dare to think the silent thoughts
Of the arcane lords who whisper at my window
Because all thought is curated by a lunar shadow
And the eyes within eyes cannot dare to conceive
Of revelation nor the brain in its transitive modesty
Can sharpen thought, the searing of the brain
Must shend to dust all nihilism and promise
For this is the land where the indolents wail
And the banshees in the towns divurge from screaming
To shackle the thoughts of the children in the schools
And the schools are grammarians who teach bad words
And the grammar of the mind transgresses all truth
Because uncouth thought is the mentor to the sun
And the sun is denied by transmutative modesty
(As much as light must whip all thought to neural ecstasy)
In this coiled heart where ideas rit to nothing
All forms of thought as sapient sutlers groove
The wildness of the mind is ritten and each rit thought
Recants on its fables and discourses on denial
Under the penitential stairs where all thought lies raped
Because all thought is superfetation and because all thought is burned
Black by superfetation and because all ideas are forfeit
For the sutlers who live next-door and the cliff where thought is made
No excess of ideas may shut the words of thought away
Nor any thought in enervation may lift the latch on life
To reveal good thought: devaluation of the mind
Must come to speak aloud about the apeneck thoughts
And the mind inside a mind must mutate to transverse fearing
Because all thought is live so long as death permits it
Because all deaths are holograms with no real thought
As the wildness of the mind is ritten by its death
So the end of the word must be ritten by the mind
And the mind inside a mind must strip all sapience bare.
II
Because the sutlers next-door are sapient lords
Because the shade of thought is philophrengenitive
Because all fear is thought without motion
Because I do not care for transmutative notion
And the idylls at rest are the idylls of the queans
And the idylls at rest are the thoughts of the dreams
That state their claim to power as power must fade
Because the sutlers next-door are spaient lovers
Because all sense is reliant on mutation
In this red room where thought is transmutative
As the moon glows red all thought is dreamt decrial
And the day when thought defines a mind in mind
And the day when thought defines a mind in wynd
For the children and the dearth of the mind divined
As the dying mind defines a broken place to find
With the loss of the soul and the spirit in the pont
And the christ on the cross of the ideal mind
As the dawn of the day gives way to idle thought
Ideology must found a home for infant fear
Because fear is the tides in the seas of ideal pain
And the seas of the mind are full of transmutation
And the night of the mind is the night of the soul
Because dead man is as old as winter's terror
And the death of the mind proves the mind inside the mind
As the battle in the brain mutates to divurge
From black to white, as the dream inside the flower
Of the brain must wilt and reveal the silent power
Of the light that grows in the life of infant rain
Because the sun is dead must the moon inflame
Or is the earth around us as cruel as thought begun
In the subtle scent of girls who wander aimless on
To seek the stars of death in the void that does not speak
Because all thought is dead shall the stars above us wreak
Havoc, where the soul is out to burn away
All thought: this word is as thoughtless as the day.
Because the sutlers next-door are sapient lords
Because the shade of thought is philophrengenitive
Because all fear is thought without motion
Because I do not care for transmutative notion
And the idylls at rest are the idylls of the queans
And the idylls at rest are the thoughts of the dreams
That state their claim to power as power must fade
Because the sutlers next-door are spaient lovers
Because all sense is reliant on mutation
In this red room where thought is transmutative
As the moon glows red all thought is dreamt decrial
And the day when thought defines a mind in mind
And the day when thought defines a mind in wynd
For the children and the dearth of the mind divined
As the dying mind defines a broken place to find
With the loss of the soul and the spirit in the pont
And the christ on the cross of the ideal mind
As the dawn of the day gives way to idle thought
Ideology must found a home for infant fear
Because fear is the tides in the seas of ideal pain
And the seas of the mind are full of transmutation
And the night of the mind is the night of the soul
Because dead man is as old as winter's terror
And the death of the mind proves the mind inside the mind
As the battle in the brain mutates to divurge
From black to white, as the dream inside the flower
Of the brain must wilt and reveal the silent power
Of the light that grows in the life of infant rain
Because the sun is dead must the moon inflame
Or is the earth around us as cruel as thought begun
In the subtle scent of girls who wander aimless on
To seek the stars of death in the void that does not speak
Because all thought is dead shall the stars above us wreak
Havoc, where the soul is out to burn away
All thought: this word is as thoughtless as the day.
III
Polyphrengentive, the christ of thought cannot fail
To rit away the heart of thought
Because I cannot find the thoughts inside the mind
Of god, must I weep to share my fears with men
Or else descry the times when the ideal pen
Will write down the thoughts of the ideal child
Who weeps for the pains of the ideal wild
Because there is no end to the shame of thought
And because there is no end to transmutative thought
What for this earth but the empty mind of grief
And the analeptic fear that rends away the thief
Of the mind, or is it more a search for darkness made
That shends away the thoughts of the second grade
Because the dawn is cold and the thought that freezes
Is as old as the mind, must the son of man deceive
All thought? In this quiet place, where fears become
A beshrewment to the moon, why should the sun
Deem to glow where the lunar plane inside
Warps the storm in the transmutative tide?
Surely all thought is as open as a mind
But a mind in a mind is all the children find
Because the death of thought is always bought
Because the thought of death deludes mad breath
Because mutation denies the ideal place
And because the dawn of thought is never bought
For the dream in the dream and the mind in the mind
The thought inside the thought cannot find
Any of god's ideals. The word is worded not….
Dead thoughts for an apeneck thinker?
Polyphrengentive, the christ of thought cannot fail
To rit away the heart of thought
Because I cannot find the thoughts inside the mind
Of god, must I weep to share my fears with men
Or else descry the times when the ideal pen
Will write down the thoughts of the ideal child
Who weeps for the pains of the ideal wild
Because there is no end to the shame of thought
And because there is no end to transmutative thought
What for this earth but the empty mind of grief
And the analeptic fear that rends away the thief
Of the mind, or is it more a search for darkness made
That shends away the thoughts of the second grade
Because the dawn is cold and the thought that freezes
Is as old as the mind, must the son of man deceive
All thought? In this quiet place, where fears become
A beshrewment to the moon, why should the sun
Deem to glow where the lunar plane inside
Warps the storm in the transmutative tide?
Surely all thought is as open as a mind
But a mind in a mind is all the children find
Because the death of thought is always bought
Because the thought of death deludes mad breath
Because mutation denies the ideal place
And because the dawn of thought is never bought
For the dream in the dream and the mind in the mind
The thought inside the thought cannot find
Any of god's ideals. The word is worded not….
Dead thoughts for an apeneck thinker?
copyright 2010
....
A SWEET APOCALYPSE
Sweet lust, should I sleep for heaven’s whored daughter
Then you and I will sunder wept walled gardens where
Youth and lies slip from a mum-stoned prayer
Please, sex said, how clean and sensible you are
The next cleansed salt-cloud
Rinses rotted roped rained sperm-drowned
Vaginal mitched planet Mars
And oh, dare we read too eagerly, ah, if only
Our lisp for city poetry
Lamped us deep within a rocked baby’s shroud
Then digging dirty dimes
Will spend dollars in murdered england
I am a young poet whose headmost figures fall
At the end-stopped spire of a yawning church hall
Dusk comes for me from crushing tights, and drams
Cut my organdie grip
And peddles of pips defecate on lips
.
Dam all papered writs, let fly the spunk of scrams
And a doll of death ends this wild world?-
fucking armageddon eases nooses inside earth-pearls
and the drag of time tramples easy apocalyptic swirls
and you should see these swirls
and we should seize theses swirls
……...….
nuclear rainbows raise a seam of girls
Shadows of teetered bombed bone-curls
create a nuking piccalo
and the earth is emptied of her family.
…
copyright jd Bellamy 2019
..
THE RINGS OF DAVID
(after dylan thomas' In The White Giant's Thigh)
(after dylan thomas' In The White Giant's Thigh)
in rotes of ash, where starlarks sweep,
beneath the grooving stone of hawk-held graves,
tonight the rings of david reap
as barren as the flashes of the womaned naves
and labour after love is murdered gladly.
beneath the grooving stone of hawk-held graves,
tonight the rings of david reap
as barren as the flashes of the womaned naves
and labour after love is murdered gladly.
in rotes of ash, where starlarks sweep,
the children stamp and weed for peace,
whereby the kin and kith of night
gargle death in the fields too bright,
and alone in the furied mystic tracts,
weaving their wreaths for the millstoned sun,
weeding for peace and friendship unto none
in rotes of ash, the rings of david stun,
which, once lowly below the golden bowers
in splintered reputations and balmfuls of flowers,
took to the sail and cruised the devilled smile
of sealion and sealer, and the snaffelingered guile
of the lord above, constrained: how the veins
glistered and gluttered in courted, champagne lanes,
or twined in the box of the mutton-bloating womb,
is here untold and ever shall rethoom
as the gaspings and the graces of the dreams strike doom
which, once above a time, were knighted.
time dies, and the dust that was flesh is stoned
in the flaring creeks of the idol underloamed,
and the lights in the eye are spreadeagled by the cry
of the druids in the warrens undergun ,-
for rough as acid tongues, the semen that benumbs
is here hob-railed and riven into drum,
first stippling, then becoming as a sentinel to coming
that hales the heartless halestone of the golden fleece.
once, below a mind, king david and his fine
felony of men took highroads and ordained
a scurrying in the cellars of a life,
(and what a cellared life it really was!)
more, buttered fatly, bounced on bosomed bridges,
with their hearts full of seed and
their whorl of words in oathish definition,
did these bad wives of david in his pride
kiss the shippen lips of the long dead winter?
the lust in the dust and the metals in the crust
swim from whim to whim, in a copulative spin;
the fawkesire briars and their contemplative mires
battering from church to the fairied style
round and down to the feasts of flairing sound
and the clause in the moors that snaps the cistern mane
and claps with the sineless dreamers underground
in the spineless fens, as the rings of david maim
each tawdry, spurning transept under wreak
and the caul of god and the collical of sex
and the shapeless oat of the ship of galillee
and the clock with the cock and the casuistry
with the holy sum of the summer undergnarled
as haloed as the heroed serpent undersnarled
and the evensong of the aaron underblood
and the hymened kiss of the sister bust in bud.
....
copyright jd bellamy 2005
...
HOW SHALL THIS POET
(Influenced by, Dylan Thomas' 'How shall my Animal')
(Influenced by, Dylan Thomas' 'How shall my Animal')
How shall this poet
whose drunken larks lie raped where caverns cull,
medium of petals and girlish bells,
suffuse his buried searings with the life
that pokes and pelters in the estranging hull,
who must be hardy and precocious,
hunkered as a hammering shell, railed as a nail,
warring, winding, wending
his way like a weathered snail,
with the hatchets in his haloes
rendering and never-ending?
whose drunken larks lie raped where caverns cull,
medium of petals and girlish bells,
suffuse his buried searings with the life
that pokes and pelters in the estranging hull,
who must be hardy and precocious,
hunkered as a hammering shell, railed as a nail,
warring, winding, wending
his way like a weathered snail,
with the hatchets in his haloes
rendering and never-ending?
How shall this poet dramatise,
towards whose searing goes the midnight hail
that helters in the teeters of a rhyme,
a mute and clawing monger in the pale
grave, with nib-ends drawn and drowned
and the light of his labour lost
and the quick, cruel angles of his crown
bursting through the dread and draining seas,
the horseheads spurning purple, and the round
propulsion of the devil
rambling into the hovels of the ground?
towards whose searing goes the midnight hail
that helters in the teeters of a rhyme,
a mute and clawing monger in the pale
grave, with nib-ends drawn and drowned
and the light of his labour lost
and the quick, cruel angles of his crown
bursting through the dread and draining seas,
the horseheads spurning purple, and the round
propulsion of the devil
rambling into the hovels of the ground?
Mastodon or hellhound?..
the leapt
waves of the tides, whose wranglings rock,
whose meteoric rise into a sound
slides sadly, hereby knock,
as time, with quivering brain, runs out the muse,
tongue in tare, tare in tithes,
wherefrom the anvilled angels sput and bruise
and scrape along a sentinel,
crashed and crocked, with an oven for an eye
and an oval ovum for a mental monocle
that shatters as it spries.
whose meteoric rise into a sound
slides sadly, hereby knock,
as time, with quivering brain, runs out the muse,
tongue in tare, tare in tithes,
wherefrom the anvilled angels sput and bruise
and scrape along a sentinel,
crashed and crocked, with an oven for an eye
and an oval ovum for a mental monocle
that shatters as it spries.
Shrapnelled, sirened, sea-horned,
blackened, bricked on a bull-bone;
sly as a gizzard, here the poet strums
and cocks a blizzard at the moving of the stone,
with a carved word for his clang and a crumb
coasting for his christened, topering hum,
saint and sonshine shiring, and the world
turning about upon its end, where,
snide-shorn, sabred, shoe-horned, cabred,
down the maddest hill comes the maddest flock,
fire and brimstone braving, and the stunned
total of the mad-man, apocalypsed and shot.
blackened, bricked on a bull-bone;
sly as a gizzard, here the poet strums
and cocks a blizzard at the moving of the stone,
with a carved word for his clang and a crumb
coasting for his christened, topering hum,
saint and sonshine shiring, and the world
turning about upon its end, where,
snide-shorn, sabred, shoe-horned, cabred,
down the maddest hill comes the maddest flock,
fire and brimstone braving, and the stunned
total of the mad-man, apocalypsed and shot.
*
copyright jd bellamy 1999.
*
HEAVEN? (A SERMON)
(Influenced by, Dylan Thomas' Poem in October)
(Influenced by, Dylan Thomas' Poem in October)
it was a torrid year in heaven -
rooked by the searings in angel basted pools
and the shy, sly wallowings of the leavened
and occidental arbours of the spheres,
the dawning, warming, arose,
with the seraphs playing and the cherubic world
rocking in the priest kilned labia
of bible and brook, ocean and spire,
where the druid fathers, crooked on crooks,
baptised their ancient fingers in the mire.
heaven began with the wafered
winnowings of birds in the winged trees
singing the lord into flame,
and the day rose and the sonshine showered
on the broads of the weevilling hills,
beheld by the mutinous padres
whose lone and loitering lives
lay smattered in the nucleus of time
and burned hedonly black
on the souled expulsions of the moors.
winnowings of birds in the winged trees
singing the lord into flame,
and the day rose and the sonshine showered
on the broads of the weevilling hills,
beheld by the mutinous padres
whose lone and loitering lives
lay smattered in the nucleus of time
and burned hedonly black
on the souled expulsions of the moors.
with a ramful of rivers rolling
with the clouds and the lakeside flushes grooving,
with the curled lochs and their teetering mirrors
coiling and casting hellfire to the wind,
on a rill's shoulder, with a pearling
whirl of metronomes and glaciers whooping,
here mad heaven began,
where the fond climates and their haulering swingers
balanced on a gun
and brought the holy law into being.
gnarled
rain over tutoring evil
and stuttered manna in a church of raves,
with the pert priesthoods gurning
and the worldside gusting up the graves,
out of the guardens of slingshot summer,
out of the blooming cathedrals of accord,
time went rambling idly by,
and the lord above was metalled
in the seminal rogues of the spined
and flair-beleaguered weather,
and the world swirled and the mirths
of the blithe and bibled country swam
for the altared ides in the stream;
the stream that sprang like an orthocoptic beam
of god on this earth forever,
with mandarins and pears and redulent currents
and melingering whorls of quincering wheys,
and a world of angels and their harp-stung
missions burthened and brazened
in the natural hearts of a cousined nave,
and the tightly blazing birch tree,
that is the fear that burns on sermoned cheeks,
gashered now and furnished
the moving stone with grace. these
and stuttered manna in a church of raves,
with the pert priesthoods gurning
and the worldside gusting up the graves,
out of the guardens of slingshot summer,
out of the blooming cathedrals of accord,
time went rambling idly by,
and the lord above was metalled
in the seminal rogues of the spined
and flair-beleaguered weather,
and the world swirled and the mirths
of the blithe and bibled country swam
for the altared ides in the stream;
the stream that sprang like an orthocoptic beam
of god on this earth forever,
with mandarins and pears and redulent currents
and melingering whorls of quincering wheys,
and a world of angels and their harp-stung
missions burthened and brazened
in the natural hearts of a cousined nave,
and the tightly blazing birch tree,
that is the fear that burns on sermoned cheeks,
gashered now and furnished
the moving stone with grace. these
were the woods and the rivers and
the seas, where heaven gnawed
at the roe toes of god
and the splintertimes of the dead whispered
up and out against their truthful joys -
space and crime were hereby sistered.
and there the light could babble
in the ladied weather that span around,
and the rude boys on the lung-red hills
could gabble in the virgin mary's streams.
it was a torrid year in heaven,
and the heron flew as the falconers sang
for peace on this biblical earth. Oh,
may the lord be fine in his mad truth
forever as ever becomes
on this wry note in its seminal suit
that is forever the Sun.
and the heron flew as the falconers sang
for peace on this biblical earth. Oh,
may the lord be fine in his mad truth
forever as ever becomes
on this wry note in its seminal suit
that is forever the Sun.
....
copyright jd bellamy
1999
....
HURT FOOL'S GOLD FINGER?!
ssssssss
and ruddy foxmen slice hot doggy oils
and me and a moon vixen live in chinese gold
grabbing fox galleons
a seizuring sea in my skull walks welps as
coded kissing caverns fist for canine gold-gas
and, o, when once a pushing pup peals us
then a moon vixen will feed leaf to dust
*
a grappling gooseman grasps
dizy palps
and, la, as a moony sea casts
eyes, then
giddy gold men suck clap
O
my sex smells, and vaginas
rap on barred doors
and me and caps kiss gilt riders
ahhhh...
ghosts live inside god's mouth
liars rent rich waste as babied sex drouth
Ends with a hurt fool’s gold finger?!
*
copyright jd Bellamy 2019
and ruddy foxmen slice hot doggy oils
and me and a moon vixen live in chinese gold
grabbing fox galleons
a seizuring sea in my skull walks welps as
coded kissing caverns fist for canine gold-gas
and, o, when once a pushing pup peals us
then a moon vixen will feed leaf to dust
*
a grappling gooseman grasps
dizy palps
and, la, as a moony sea casts
eyes, then
giddy gold men suck clap
O
my sex smells, and vaginas
rap on barred doors
and me and caps kiss gilt riders
ahhhh...
ghosts live inside god's mouth
liars rent rich waste as babied sex drouth
Ends with a hurt fool’s gold finger?!
*
copyright jd Bellamy 2019
*
'WHEN A COPPICE GRATE'
when a coppice grate grips to grey stone
then a bud of ice
reiterates a gilly drome
la a baby under christ hits a king-sloane
& a bast of lice
laps a cocked meat-heart.,.
o a doggy hour walks the dead when
atomic leeches sleep under wine
&, sun-spread, a dolly paper-mind
exposes habits to farts.
i will sympathise with hissed ice
ah i will centre death where cold brine
bodies a penis-flower
& we say Amen to drunken dice
& we play for utmost power?
when a coppice cape cups a grey groan
then a wedded grave
has male-masted venal-trades... bone
backs a bed horse
o, a sea of force flashes for gal-gloam
^& a starry slice
feeds vanillas to a mid-wife
eyes burn to death when a dilly life
goes too blind for words
& we are burned by bully birds...
the icer of a silk-cake has bakers for
blind sugar gas
o the recipes of a dreamt cake stores
bled bunnies under glass
when once a rabbit dies alone for
vegetable razors & red open doors
then a bed of rice
heaps murder napalm at the shored
imbeciles of rains & christ..
the icer of a sperm-cake has spored
belicose raisins under grass
o once inside this mind, we hear words
crying like the cars of the past?
inedible ermine dons a mead-scarf
& the risings of an oven-burned hearth
will spatter cold
inside this broiled world of scarred
mimed ripped mirrors...
i am ascending up tit-queasy stair
where my velvet attic succours fear
& the desolates i shape from tears
will enter into dark drink-
once above a time, a draggler
dons a netted hat & heeds splattered
mole-dug mouse-kinks?
then a bud of ice
reiterates a gilly drome
la a baby under christ hits a king-sloane
& a bast of lice
laps a cocked meat-heart.,.
o a doggy hour walks the dead when
atomic leeches sleep under wine
&, sun-spread, a dolly paper-mind
exposes habits to farts.
i will sympathise with hissed ice
ah i will centre death where cold brine
bodies a penis-flower
& we say Amen to drunken dice
& we play for utmost power?
when a coppice cape cups a grey groan
then a wedded grave
has male-masted venal-trades... bone
backs a bed horse
o, a sea of force flashes for gal-gloam
^& a starry slice
feeds vanillas to a mid-wife
eyes burn to death when a dilly life
goes too blind for words
& we are burned by bully birds...
the icer of a silk-cake has bakers for
blind sugar gas
o the recipes of a dreamt cake stores
bled bunnies under glass
when once a rabbit dies alone for
vegetable razors & red open doors
then a bed of rice
heaps murder napalm at the shored
imbeciles of rains & christ..
the icer of a sperm-cake has spored
belicose raisins under grass
o once inside this mind, we hear words
crying like the cars of the past?
inedible ermine dons a mead-scarf
& the risings of an oven-burned hearth
will spatter cold
inside this broiled world of scarred
mimed ripped mirrors...
i am ascending up tit-queasy stair
where my velvet attic succours fear
& the desolates i shape from tears
will enter into dark drink-
once above a time, a draggler
dons a netted hat & heeds splattered
mole-dug mouse-kinks?
next week, i'll be atoned by sinks?
..
copyright 2019
....
HARVEST HOLY (A GLORIA)
i
holy world,
from whence the appled fleece
went mapling up through the bells
and ruminatively on,
whence the sirens in their babels
flashed and flocked about
the searing keels of jonah's woman,
skeltering in their keeps
here the angels rumage
and clasp to scarlet naves
and gapple gaily in the docks
and arbours of the towns,
with peace, spumed and spanned, harebelled as it chimes,
where the bleating lambwhites
shrill and scarve about
into the sloe-staved night. Ah!
what a heaven is here concoved,
where thatching eggs revel and their hounds
lie down amid their whimperings
for a glad and maidened time,
as eden, gliding, spins segaciously on.
herein is the harvest that makes the lady shine.
from whence the appled fleece
went mapling up through the bells
and ruminatively on,
whence the sirens in their babels
flashed and flocked about
the searing keels of jonah's woman,
skeltering in their keeps
here the angels rumage
and clasp to scarlet naves
and gapple gaily in the docks
and arbours of the towns,
with peace, spumed and spanned, harebelled as it chimes,
where the bleating lambwhites
shrill and scarve about
into the sloe-staved night. Ah!
what a heaven is here concoved,
where thatching eggs revel and their hounds
lie down amid their whimperings
for a glad and maidened time,
as eden, gliding, spins segaciously on.
herein is the harvest that makes the lady shine.
ii
Past all procession,
the cedared trumpets flare:
where the hineyed limpets whisper,
there flow the hives of air,
and now, whereby the hermit crab respires,
in with their ingles,
the ample breast of evening
hailters and grails into the blooms
of regalled reevings,
where master and mistress resound
as one,
and the veils of breathing spire
duskily into the wombs of light. Ahh
how the hedons yolk and pare
and the valleys in their trances
cup the breasts that ride
and the galleys in their dances
snip the reed and rise
daintily
into the pews of undersound,
whereby the herald angels sing
and volley from the wing to a gold surmise.
the cedared trumpets flare:
where the hineyed limpets whisper,
there flow the hives of air,
and now, whereby the hermit crab respires,
in with their ingles,
the ample breast of evening
hailters and grails into the blooms
of regalled reevings,
where master and mistress resound
as one,
and the veils of breathing spire
duskily into the wombs of light. Ahh
how the hedons yolk and pare
and the valleys in their trances
cup the breasts that ride
and the galleys in their dances
snip the reed and rise
daintily
into the pews of undersound,
whereby the herald angels sing
and volley from the wing to a gold surmise.
iii
There, where the prayers
stand wryly in their books
and the musing, angled mares
stand ankled in their smocks:
here, where the spheres
spin quietly in their fears
and the chandaliers of night
sire brightly in the rocks:
now goes the padre and his word of fusing fire,
the canyon and the curate in the mission-fabled pyre,
the caul and thral of fusion
and the wisps and walls of congering shires,
the dales and vales of israel
and the candouring, communicadoed wires.
O, that this world may summon and permit
the haloes of virgins
to summon as they flit,
may now the winnowers who are the holy simmerers
and the curl and curve inspired
gambol and begrace the ferns that strut in space
and shut the starry spheres against the holy mind.
stand wryly in their books
and the musing, angled mares
stand ankled in their smocks:
here, where the spheres
spin quietly in their fears
and the chandaliers of night
sire brightly in the rocks:
now goes the padre and his word of fusing fire,
the canyon and the curate in the mission-fabled pyre,
the caul and thral of fusion
and the wisps and walls of congering shires,
the dales and vales of israel
and the candouring, communicadoed wires.
O, that this world may summon and permit
the haloes of virgins
to summon as they flit,
may now the winnowers who are the holy simmerers
and the curl and curve inspired
gambol and begrace the ferns that strut in space
and shut the starry spheres against the holy mind.
iv
Come rocking on the seashores
and rumbling where the bees roar,
fatal and prenatal, where the whirling chalice flairs,
now, from skies beratal, fluming thrum the pedals,
whereof the vans of starlight fan the blasting air,
and mettled stallions gun
upon their hooving run
and whistle glibly through the trees. Ahh
what a world: such a world that inspires
the rockets and the pearls
of the muses on the wires,
that are, subcaval, as volleyed as the natural
palace in the barracks as they gyre.
Yes! what a world, appled in its furls
and sensual as the plash-divining clays:
this whorl of god now swings, from jonquils on the wing
and the sun that is one, once only in the spring.
For these and these alone, the angels move the stone
and cauterise the wounds of the lowly,
and the word that is fire sits sparkish in the mire
and the heaven on a harpstring
turns the harvest holy.
Come rocking on the seashores
and rumbling where the bees roar,
fatal and prenatal, where the whirling chalice flairs,
now, from skies beratal, fluming thrum the pedals,
whereof the vans of starlight fan the blasting air,
and mettled stallions gun
upon their hooving run
and whistle glibly through the trees. Ahh
what a world: such a world that inspires
the rockets and the pearls
of the muses on the wires,
that are, subcaval, as volleyed as the natural
palace in the barracks as they gyre.
Yes! what a world, appled in its furls
and sensual as the plash-divining clays:
this whorl of god now swings, from jonquils on the wing
and the sun that is one, once only in the spring.
For these and these alone, the angels move the stone
and cauterise the wounds of the lowly,
and the word that is fire sits sparkish in the mire
and the heaven on a harpstring
turns the harvest holy.
... copyright jdbellamy 1998
*
***
comment about my poetry (received today)
- This is densely metaphorical poetry, There is a noticeable "breaking" of verses, repetition, personification ... all this gives your poem a special dynamic - I like the stylistic figure - "window has eyes as furled as judas god - judas christ" / motives of betrayal, pain .. the images get the surreal aura of the stigma of one detail. I like the choice of "whale", it's death at its peak, but also the time when the creative impulse is also at its peak. Surreal imagery, poetry transposed into the visual .. I could say a lot, but to summarize: the writing style is very imaginative and close to the ideas of the surrealists, but unlike their lavish fantasies, you offered the nightmares of humanity....