He made them by the dozen and so swift.
Quite unremarked the cups all seemed to be.
A haggle, then Denarii, then the gift
is taken for the slave’s new bride to be.

Upon a Sunday morning brisk and cold,
they watch a crowd lay palm leaves for a man
who rides upon an ass, yet seeming bold.
Another huckster, think they, with his clan.

A night of turmoil, fear and wrongful threats;
they beat him ‘til his flesh is stripped from him.
Upon the tree he bleeds, the cups are wet.
The old man casts the fullest as a whim.

Across the seven seas he sailed to seek
the greatest treasures that a man can find
and here he laughed and dined with men who reek
of greed within their hearts that made them blind.

The pirate king was trapped among his crew
who wished him ill and stripped him of his loot
they longed for him to die, of that he knew
so he made plans to give them all the boot

He paid a serving girl to seal their fate
and then he seemed to be in jolly mood
but in the end he felt the sting of hate
for she betrayed him with his poisoned food

Freud and schizophrenia,
saturnine arnica
junipers broll on Nausikaas
balms to bid him stay
brim suffocation of arnica,
or razors that cut through
puckered pine, porcupine
abacus of beads
stringed: placid
then plucked to viola
silhouettes of dusk
forgets all wavy auburn's,
therein awakened hamlets,
and kindred teeth break
shards of jowl

and pass, not dawn
letting gambols
of coral reefs
abandonment, the
faint whisper of a grass

exquisite,
yes
not painful
but beautiful

you extract elixir of life
from the thoughts of a dying man

since ages as we are all born to die
one day
some day
since we arrive

but when shall the train arrive
at the platform of demise
none know yet
nor ever will
tis my surmise

man still till his last day wants to rise
and
once he does
tis no surprise
we all love to see ours rise....

the elastic strap
soaks white
and its a part of me
the wind up importance
beneath the worn chrome
dust and counting
minutes
seconds
days
months

Someone was playing
Stones from a radio
the notes cut the start
of the day like a bayonets
shave

We packed up
checked the gear
Raybans and extra
smokes
doused before
the rotors spun up
the hot dragons breath
of high octane
Boots aired out
still wet
Not soaking

Wish melancholy upon the wind
while birds lie silent, feathers skinned
and rivers flow with stench-black jeers
we want to sleep again

the stench of money ebbs and flows
as children sleep beneath the bones
with bastardly sin they overhear
we try to sleep again

will you not answer their harrowing calls
they rattle and moan beneath the walls
your brothers and sisters are weeping my dear
we will not sleep again

Krack a smile
would it hurt
tinfoil cheap capped yearling

Expunge your soiled heartbeat breast
and let the fizz of the jacked up
Beat talk best

Nothing like the rush of things
to better unbecome
Invisible
Raise a toast by the neck
and taste its Essence
This vessel
Bless it under this
vulgar rain dressed night
that we may be pure
Against the warmth
of this fire
kindled in our loins

..

Of all the seats invented, one persists.
'Twould be the one for which most all would vouch,
and say a greater comfort can't exist
than when one's resting on one's favourite couch.

With stays and cushions sprung in interplay,
a range of shapes to fit, so every station
could then recline and while away the day
in clever, contemplative conversation.