Gutted

As fierce as I’m swallowed,
through momentous times,
I’m left
Stunned and shunned
Shaking
on a quiet sidewalk somewhere.
Reminding myself of others –
times, people, even places.
And thus, I’m left
a mushy pulp of lightness:
Whimpering
Piteously
from this path.

Morning

In the morning, when you wake
please wait.
Push me from your head –
Don’t push me from your bed:
Let me rise up
and wake up
and get up, to see
what you looked like
and smell like
and felt like to me!

Thoughts Are Few

And inconsistent;
largely light, reticent.
Struggling through
some lonely night –
I try to think; so on I write!

Music plays me,
curling strayly,
lost in worlds I cannot own.
Mindless – flightless –
walking slowly…
Soft in brains puss brought to show!

Short and tragically
we peer contemptuously:
Laugh at sordid, life-lost lightly.
On my grounds
I’m sure my folly
when the night brings losers; jolly!

Back From the West

On the 1st of October.
Back thru’ the back streets and roads I once knew.
Honest: they spot me,
And point and shout over…
But these aren’t the places or people I knew.

Soon seas of grey skies
Roll in and roll over!
Soon loud street parties, of glam, roll in view.
Leaving me breathless –
Just like I remember –
Still trying to banish the old,
With the new.

I feel the difference:
Like I’m not a member.
Like my place out here, is now up for review.
The sun will soon burn up
These clouds of the winter.
Yes, I’m waiting here for the great sky to blue!

4:20

A return to attempting to find my poetic voice. We have come to the end of a string of Beck’ Beat Poetry events, which have been a series of fantastical occasions! Enabling me and others to meet and hear top-class poets from across south London (and Hackney)!

Here is the 420

 

143

Lying, cheating
thieving swines’.
Stole my life –
then broke my mind!

Caught my soul
and watched it shatter
Loaned my love for life,
to batter!

First they broke me!
Then they raped me:
Doubled back
and swiped my money!

My friend butchers –
beggars all!
Stole my brightness
killed my soul.

Those dawns you dance for
where loves eye might see,
leaves nothing to cry for,
still loving you greatly

Dancer

There once was a dancer
a furtive entrancer

Androgyny performer
The dancer was known
Through a land empty – walking,
and fumbling and talking –
no others would dance
and no others would sing.

So singular dancer
well rounded and good,
would dance to their music
(and sing for their feet)
while our land free of movement
watched dancing the treat.

There once was a dancer
lone song in the din

A colour ambassador
flute chanting its rhyme
throughout lands of grey
by peoples dismay
and this dancing entrancer
caught up all the day

While a light shone its lightness
while the muffled birds watch
as time moved abruptly
to a well measured tune
So brightness was shared
by a dance in the noon

There once was a dancer
crowned colour through grey

A dancer still dancing
To nobodies songs.

My Private Wonder

Stalking quietly
Quickly lightly
Hunting them who cannot see thee
Hunching tensely
Breathless nobly
Pounce on pray so unaware

I can see thee
I can hear you,
In the darkness
In the light

You will hardly catch me sleeping
While a breath in your lungs haunts
Morning lately, noon or nighttime –
Never can I rest at all

Creeping slinky
Shadows crawling
Though I fear you in my mind
I shout loudly
Sharply strutting
You shall not my manner wane

Dark Is Night

But,
Come the still of morning
there is light.

Dark is night
and,
here the mind is made
of trickery to fright.

Dark is night.
To this
Claim all dark battles
You should fight.

Dark is night
AYE!
In darker dreams
An inner peace can soar in flight.

Sense The Skin

As skins mingle
our senses tingle
to an extreme –
we start to scream!

To glimpse a ghost
I tease my host
and in return these bodies burn.

So, reaching into her domain,
I know that we will burn again –
in the twisting of her mind:
the only place where she is kind!

As these feelings end we go to start again
And I decide, now, where to go
Where night gets lighter, writhing slow.

By WolfgangRieger - Marisa Ranieri Panetta (ed.): Pompeji. Geschichte, Kunst und Leben in der versunkenen Stadt. Belser, Stuttgart 2005, ISBN 3-7630-2266-X, p. 185, Public Domain,

By WolfgangRieger – Marisa Ranieri Panetta (ed.): Pompeji. Geschichte, Kunst und Leben in der versunkenen Stadt. Belser, Stuttgart 2005, ISBN 3-7630-2266-X, p. 185, Public Domain,

Over (tribute)

Play it slow; wake me when it’s over.
Feel the music lift you, love a supernova.

Sleep is quiet.
Sleep is quiet when I’m with you.

Faking love: Push me I roll over,
feel so warm inside – join me in a Rover.

Floating past, gone further than ever.
Quiet, dark, solitude.
Now the moments over.

Dreaming still,
Standing still, dreaming that I’m with you.
Now the feeling’s over.

Passing

Blue panes filter white light through
In your eyes the reflections within
And this time I’ve lost it
I’ve lost all this time…

One night which flew quick was won
Sleeping with you I tried keeping
Alas my frailty shone
All pleasantry’s gone
The night was soon morning
When it’s my time to go.

Alison

My pretty dame.
I will meet you again
again.

Sometime
in distant time
refrain…

I love your eyes
your sweet smile, pretty,
and quietly close
I sing this ditty.

Swarmin’

As I gaze out my window
I am awe-struck by the sight
of a hundred moving parties
all reflective in the night

Around is pandemonium
these strangely floating things
with a thousand different body shapes
all rested on their wings

Their dances carry all night long
and on through half the day
Some feed, some fuck, some suck your blood
Each dies it’s death in space

Dropping!

Wood still warm
soft grain flowing
Ne’er speeding
Ne’er slowing
Natures wonder
goldly glowing

I can’t feel it
on my skin
even now
I’m tucked within
Oak enclosure
Earthly grim
Lowered cupboard
Holely filling!

Off The Page

Rivers of rooftops flow
Drowning out windows
with clouds from below.
Down where the noise and malevolence grow!

Whilst daily you claw at your dreams:
taking apart
every thought you believe.

I keep seeing your face –
hearing your succulent tongue lick your breath –
as anonymous people take place.
Stealing a memory
of what your love left.

One Night Thinking

Softly ruffled; her voice
breaking like equatorial tide
against my ear, my love

Tentatively closing on a body
quietly shivering (not with cold)
with anticipation

Wracked and closing loudly
as her breath hums tunes known well
the end is close, I’ve loved

All the while I listen for her
words pour out like treacle
my mind is alive with her games.

Birthen

Woman; you were born a lady
pure as earth before the sea.
Lady I can see you calling
but I cannot stop you falling,
in this dark, they once called night –
you’re the person throwing light!
When each day has come on silent
this your knife; a final repent?

Shakrilana

Last time in those pretty eyes
where your lust lay
behind cried spies
I sought fame
and found your breast
where rested head
these thoughts forget

Here the sun breaks bleak thru days
blown clouds fly free
float forms which ‘maze.
This last enchantment
seeks your gaze
though all are blinded
eyes ablaze

This single psalm is sung by tune
in pretty lanes
on afternoons
though winds and rain
fight for small sounds
their crash is quieted
when you frown

Failing?

A magic standard gas lover
fell tragic to your arms.
So life fled quickly gushing
so little life left – gone!

Your hazy lady caught you,
a measured catch and true.
Where once you saw times mystery –
now stood loves lady new!

Was this to be our final strut
the tired late risers failing?
A love, though strong, much lacking –
a potent force, harsh; abrupt.