Some poems never make it to paper.
All the better for the poet…
there is great relief in withholding.
*
sometimes one needs
big empty head
before taking stock
balking account
*
Some fish won’t make it through the winter.
Some fish will grow tough and lean hard into the sea.
Some fish will have slight deformities in body and mind.
Some fish will marry, will pair, will birth, will splash and burn.
Some fish will fall in love with other fish - boy to girl
girl to boy - boy to boy - girl to girl - all scaling the great
divide! Fishing only as fish can fish under the great oceanic duvet!
*
Adam: Men make such strange women. That I know…haha!
The hair on your ass is not Shakesperean! The universal
whiteness of your bones is enough to let me know your God
loves you more than words confound…and your touch is wholly
more than sound! and your body with my body is quite brand new!
warmth to warmth - so this is what made worlds grow and love kindle!
satisfaction, content: yes - so comes love! (sometimes my love is entirely false. it does not know the who of its love. the object - to have no object - to love as a spread of the sheet of the world. not to point at a love object. but to have loved, what is that!?)
*
Bad Poet in the middle of a Forest of Nowhere
without a pen without a telephone without a with
at last you have everything you need…so come’s memory!
*
Armies of mugs
Kettles of boiling water
ranks of tea bags
tubs of coffee
shimmer and clink of spoons
the lull in the storm
- the break has come
- no sugar, plenty of milk
The past is a long embarassment
you are unable to shake off
unable to come out from under the table
unable to live with comfortably
in confidence
The past is not that gay, afterall boy!!
*
Yes! I’m still typing the vaguest notions onto screen.
The page of screen without pen or paper or rubber.
Tis a fine sort of a paper this screen. It allows the vaguest notions
to form…and there is no real formlessness bar chaos! In feeling
form does arrive in some manner of other…in vague prose I build houses out of waffles!
*
Hmmmm…kisses…wet hot tongue kisses…,.tighly hold each other body to body…naked and warm and pressed together almost page to page…stroke and touch and cup and rub…hmmm…warm secure affection…This then is what many wars should die for!
*
MILLIONS of Salmon eggs
inspected by an officer of the highest order
Are they strong enough for the Ayran Race!
Who is the degenerate? Who is deformed, defunct, devoid of form!?
Who has whitened to death, who has a fungus! OUT OUT!
All out…only the perfectly formed, pure black eyed, orange bodied
eggs will pass through his smooth hands and make it into fresh water
where they may well hatch in world and breathe of born life…
*
I am e.e. cummings reincarnation!
I am his Son. His brother. His Cousin. His Nephew. His Father.
*
feeling is superior to thinking
thinking is superior to belief
‘mankind would rather know than feel
mistrusting utterly that feeling…’
even the darkest of your feeling
is more sincere than the intelligence
ironed out and primed for recital!
‘since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you’
- Why Eddy I agree!
Feeling is such powerful snow
it does not melt for a season!
o feeling! are you finally
overrated! EMOTION
EMO - emoshun!
‘kisses are a better fate than wisdom’
- wise I know! Kiss me without words
and everything has been said…
ah, simple affection
you give good head!
beautiful perverse
solitary world,
where is the waiting room
for the utopians to break dance in?
*
rambling now
readying to return
to the land of fish
in the middle of remote
nowhere with lochs all around
and the silence of the air lingering
one month to go
before i am back in the life of Glasgow
making ends meet and prepairing a
bonfire for love!
*
bye
for
now
suburbia
