raisedinkpress

Hey Blue,
you probably know by now.
That time is good to you.
My eyes about the same,
bout the only thing.
But you.
Blue,
you sway so gently.
A touch of silk in the breeze.
Press you quill against my soft palate and
the words fill before we do.
My eyes are watching you.
—
Blue.
Hey Blue.
You sift daggy sand,
but know a good shell when you find it.
—
Blue,
I can’t write it down… what I really want to say.
But what could one say.
Really?
When you look at me that way.
That way I’d like to do poetry with you
—
Blue,
maybe I’ll have to bury you.
Kick some dirt over a 6ft hole.
Out there under the big old moth-eaten tablecloth sky. Out where the dirt is red.
—
Blue,
remember octopus Japanese bomber stars,
sandy soil and that eerie moon.
It makes the rest of the world look cold.

Later let’s just try to peek behind the curtain.

—

Wild death ecstasy on any morning under blue light dawn
more akin to drowning lips
than the blue of your fingertips

in absence of any breath Hey Blue,

you said it was perverse
sitting in the darkness watching

but still you liked it all the same I said,

I felt the same
standing in your bathroom knowing that all too well

that you
stand there

naked
with your breasts splashed in fine droplets

but
nobody thinks about these things…

it’s just obscure
—
Do you please yourself?

NO! —

Just under the cotton sits
a small button, to the left
is another
there is a shadow where it curves —

Please don’t stretch in front of me —

tremor
feel my body touch upon your body

show me the shadows cast from candlelight in the sweet embrace that only lovers know legs wrap backs

and passion follows muscles tight in climax

and the house is on fire

You had become a ghost in your own home town a stranger at dawn under heavy coal stacks
and grey concrete stone

In a world of instant gratification a poets life impossible yet we thrive on Fuckbook
—
ring the bells and whistles the whistles

wasted life in a country town when winnings are dust
and the drinks live above the bar

when the world ended
all the young bodies
went openly into their graves

Dirty Harry in the neon ball room Chasing razor light
Electric night
Chasing Sunday morning

Blue
In jeans that make this world seem boring and balls that clack red and yellow

I am diadem
you are splinter -we are strange and epic

Movements and time forever entwined

Hey Blue,
I see my breath
and I know I am alive
even if this cold does kill me
as long as I can see my breath
I know I am alive
—
ADVERTISING HAS KILLED US ALL —
I started your fire
because you looked so cold
yet under the open night’s stars we wait for the heart to start
or the cold
to kill us.
We are so cold
and drinks don’t go hot
when it’s so cold
The drinks don’t go hot
when its cold

and yes I’d love to eat it
your pussy
(excuse my French, thought they do say it’s the language of love)

so lets drink and try to get warm, while we are veiled in blanket cold —
Isn’t it funny how we equate
songs with time date

[I was just about to face stalk you]
Recently I have given pages to this idea.
Now I wonder if I am dreaming, imagining or crazy.

Or neither
—
A kookaburra opens the evening opera Blink the stars
Watch the mind
television eyes
boxed lies
packaged

It’s funny hearing you talk about rabbits and sticks and balloons
when I like, balloons, sticks and rabbits too and thinking of it, I’d love to kiss your fuzz but gravity does what it does

and I think it wants me to drop it. —

Your eyes are dark with mascara
your breasts,
hidden under warming throwover poncho you smile and flick your hair
and converse so happy
with friends
your teeth are blue with sambucca
you nod at suggestions
but the lines on your cheek show age
and maybe fear

and maybe if I had the courage, I’d go to you and quench it

She removes her overthrow smiles
throws her head back laughing

but god damn, those mascara eyes

you have got no idea what they’re doing to me —
we could look face to face
yet we are but strangers

and you

have the prettiest nose when you glance sideways

at this stranger or that
When really you are looking for hope

but instead you find another sip of your gin —
your eyes tell the world so much
but everybody’s too busy to listen

—

Maybe it’s the hair or the eyes,
lips, nose
in sync

or the colour of your skin like smooth mocha
in a dress, full bloom flowers, fragrance

honey,
I love to wander through your garden —
She sat at the table
glistening with youth
energy, beauty
she spoke another world
another planet really
still we sat at the same sane table

the same

then I’d must be a madman you see…

you are always with me In heaven and on earth I am nature
you are nurture

and may our sun will never set upon another argument all good things must come

Life, I love and you too cherished and adored

In your absence, beauty becomes real memories and photographs have meaning

I forgot how you are and I forgot how I am

Good god
I am a reckless fool

And for this I am punished in my mind and life

but you make it all good you make it all better

you can be my mystic generator

the future is my own and you are in it all of it
but alas I will go crazy again

—

The clouds look down upon us all or what?
I think about you,
hear myself thinking

it’s true
you can always get what you want- by and by I still want you
—
She walks in beauty dusk
in night shadows
a shroud of warm company intermittent under the street lights in memory only
and no other lights await
at the end of her tunnel
The world is sleeping
horizons burning
dreaming
dread
dream

you could be so empty so full of emptiness Light cannot penetrate or escape

Pain is not here it is empty empty
silence

rest easy my friend
here in my lap
let me cool your forehead rest and sleep now

I wake up alone
I walk the stairs alone

the view is nice
the weather is fine
I sleep alone
—
I don’t feel the same despair now that she is alone like me

now when I ask her
‘Do I know any reason for living”

she replies
‘What can I say’

and I say
‘That’s the door to my bedroom’

Should I take her into my arms
and let her feed of the blood soaked battle wounds

Given that its all for nothing Given that our camouflage is on Given that tonight
her belly is flat against mine

She repeats me dull, dutifully
and
I press against the glass
forever after I wonder
because in the light of morning
I know I’ll never see the sweetness of her

I will never taste the cool night air coursing through our midnight veins and she says

‘talk to me or shut up’

I say it’s the wet season
and given that it’s all for nothing I do

The light goes out
again.
slowly this time. A candle starved of oxygen.
I open my mouth and a thousand black bats
spew out.
and I am no more than the cooling pooling blood on the floor. Close the curtains.
Turn out the light- please
Tell me about your day
any day. It doesn’t matter.
The sun rises and sets as an illusion
I can’t feel,
every internal contact with this world external,
feels like a raw nerve.
my life is a toothache, I am a toothache
sweet things are about all I can smile for.
I can’t smile anymore, hardly anymore.
The lights go out,
the moon is out too,
too full

and if your love had have been spider’s webs you’d be a kind of monster not to tell me

and I am a man shivering bumping into my own letters singing over my own grave sacrificing the evening

to the ceiling
the moments by the duck pond

Ah fuck it
your damned gorgeous hair spoils everything

We escaped the ravaged lands
clawed words back from the deserts edge
my raspy jaw and her bloody lips
peeling skin and broken sandstone headstone

The self burns up
and we litter the sky with ashes we don’t fear heaven
or concede hell

youre becoming a damn fine poet Blue one of the best
use your words

for they’re delicious ageless
and
beautiful like you