Re: Iceland ..

                     is cold,   it's  no wonder
                       they left

                                     playing chess with the ghost of bobby fischer,

Re: Iceland ..

tell me ,


   tell me what happens when  you're going blind  ,

        the glare on the glare is harder, esp when you're tired,

                                and your girlfriend's ass

                                                     feels better,

                                                       your hand grabs more

                                                                   feels more,   because it's less distracted

                                                      how it looks,

                                                                                so your hand gets to 'see' how it feels
                                                                                          like never before

                   a full hand,


so conducting,


 so conducting between  the various acts of speech, freed, of its imprecise function as language,

   we create theatre, crossing the street,


you mean?


 you mean the theatre of action ?  you mean the theatre of action baaaby

              you mean the two step
                                                                   the three step



   the immigrant gets his passport stolen

                 hapless, helpless, flounderin' the street,

                              dog down on the road,




the theatre


   working with the theatre will change things

                      the theatre, performance,


and the water


    the water speeding past     you  looking at speeding past over the tilt of the boat
                                                  speed at this tilt
                            how many knots   pushed the capstan past the   whirling reefs?
                     this being the place the spot in the moving tide
                             the sea rid by both islands between the giant chalks of land
                                    t his land and that      one to t he west                           

                                                                    the wild scraggy water  colder
                                                                     waking the long dead dreams
                                                                              Ah but does cold waken?

                                                                                this time it does
                                                                                    her curse falls away
                                                            only love is good
                                                                 only love remembers
                                                            no not hate doesn't remember



.. where ..


     you were walking  the  road   Barna  to Galway then back (back back to Canada

                                                  like a real immigrant) that you were
                 that  you are  a prisoner of roads and   train,  roadblock and  visa,
                        a  mere speck in the dust of   power
               not a trembling anger in the calm town
                  backing down over the sweet pea
                                          and her hips

                           swaying calling you home



'is infinite is eternal'


   grief  ends replaced  by eternal life
      the soul and body returned reunited





'hiatus'  it' s  a point of view

    say  like this bridge over the Thames or the one in Shannon,
                        the one in the   falling water stretches over the yarn
                  on the boat, and your     sailing self reaching

                         hanging by the

                                               this water plunging unlike  the plough over the farms
                                                             back of Cork county
                                                        the time hitchhiking


_ g for giref


                                           grief is endless,
                                                      before , after and after before,



_____________s ound effects___________


sound effects from this blog don't appear to be working on mobile viewings of it,

           which presents another  challenge and or possible    area to work on,



Iceland ..


                 Iceland  Ireland  on the high seas

    all on a  brigantine




Re: love's like

Re love's like so 

   love's resembles banishment! ah i have rung four cities with the hope of uncovering a lover's hope



love's like

love like this / a punishment/ exile/ kicked out down those stairs
                                                      run that machine
    squawk box
lover loser
                                                       you still want it ? send by anon anon an anon a door backward taken
                                                            can i blame her?

                                                 but everything'sfiction including t he question mark crossed virtual sky
                                                                     victual victim of love's crucifix

 retake  take again ache  of t he offwall a crib from the wake and the again nothing of a life choosing words pulled from the air winding the right left wing of the halting diction of this searching self wondering at the Pom bakery  truck where you 'crashed' out 1 night hitchhiking back from Sussex New Brunswick   and hungry on the road not knowing not knowing what was down the road the trains were inexpensive it was fun going down the road that summer spring fall and discovering that great writer and happiness was a  something on  a w wing a hat in your head or something shadowing you something good and the world was coming with its hopeful

No more period

no more commas,

this piece of material cloth collage

a  fair of body

 a  warn of skill

love's horn

 your body wrapped around hers in the sun clothing of love's gift


and you add a comma
                                                                            ,                    and push the limit                       (s  ),



.. by coincidence



by coincidene i too was reading the stocky Stoics reviewing ancient Greek philosophers!

  how they muttered when speaking  gaping out of caves

                      in the dark                      in t he park with two lovers side to side

                     like  you in  S     yes with two side by side

                but that was mere   romantic years dont count besides nothing ever came of it

                             nothing really happened except a dance across the floor kissing on
           then th' other
                                    then the dead years came

                            exile the downward spiral

                       but the Stoics were mostly rickety and   the body grows old and saw

  rifting round its continual gape as Jill t he ruby and Mona the diamond, or was it green emerald? azure amethyst?
                   O how I missed her

     or some machine as this infinite turning back of page and page and stroke after stroke
                                                                                                                 the swimmer

           nobody makes poetry no one

                       and solitude is infinite


Now Jill says tell me that sounding it's plunging past the feet of the matter the Mater Dolorosa, the Ugliosa holding her own in the messy kitchen where G lived with     ~

_    a  nervous narcotic insistence


  bks 've disappeared

          the illusion of holding one it's in yr head
                     mostly holding it in your head
                        the illusion

_____________________________Around the crockery dish__________________________