A Little Afternoon Music

                                                            you said
                                                     you loved this piece
                                                      so i'm putting it on
                                           hoping it will make your heart sing
                                                                for me

Dada

the little lacrimal fistula that says tick tock
BOOM
eine bombe blitz blast
Alles was eine Kunstler spuckt ist Kunst

DADA connait TOUT
mon coeur bat today
i drew a line through yesterday
when i saw the yellow of the eggs
winking

MERZGESAMTKUNTSWERK 




TAIS TOI Polly Picabia
Oh Schwitters
stupide French parrot
i'm having a metaphysical ordeal
The Great Plasto-Dio-Dada Drama



jouez avec moi
je suis un violon
je ne suis pas
un rossignol
OU
un hirondelle 

DADA n'attrape pas les mouches
two children are threatened by a nightingale
pour l'amour de dieu pas encore!
Max Ernst is climbing the walls


Waste not want not
Why not sneeze Rrose Selavey?
oui = non
DADA crache TOUT

Dada ne parle pas
des odeurs
Prrrrrrrrrt!!!!!
violettes de Parme
des salades
OU
de coucher avec Verlaine
NON NON NON


JAMAIS JAMAIS  JAMAIS

L H O  O Q
Manifeste DAda

I Did It My Way

 3WW

there is intrigue occuring
in the chambers of whispers and sighs in the vatican
scurrying plotters conniving to discredit the new pope
for his choice in cars , hair cuts  and tacit  support
for the lavender mafia
indeed a vehement traditional opposition



shame about the shoes -  His Holiness should have kept the red shoes
or at least given them to the Queen of England
in exchange for the  carton of eggs she presented him with
from the palace hen house as an official gift


>
" i know it does not look like much of  a gift
but they are eggs from royal hens
besides we are not prepared to waste good money
on papists.It is costing a fortune maintaining
all the real estate we stole from you a few hundred years ago"

Reluctant Songstress

dverse


she must leave the door ajar
with some feeling of hope
that a kindred spirit
will stumble across her path one day
otherwise her story is over

the opening gets smaller and smaller
as the years go by
only a magician desperate to hear
the wafts of music coming from inside
could squeeze himself through the crack
not fully understanding that once in-
the door shuts and there is no way out again

Triolet

the beauty of my cactus plant
is knowing it will always thrive
no matter what  in heat or damp
the beauty of my cactus plant
will long  outlive me and my rants
its prickly thorns made to survive
the beauty of my cactus plant
is knowing it will always thrive

Chez Ruth

 dverse
mid week motif..poets united

your voice and laughter
still echo through this room

memories of weekends
great food  conversation and music
at your beach house



sheer magic lost - gone
those weekends saved my life
gave me more hope than any Church

and like everything else that i have loved
it is always taken from me

this is the place where i was most happy

we have not long to love
light does not stay
the tender moments are those
we  fold away
Tennesee Williams

Stalked By A Lobster In The Rain

 This poem was inspired and written in conjunction with "Walking In The Rain" sung by Grace Jones







she's walking in the rain
whistling in the night
in her satin trench coat
looking like a man
walking in the rain

checking out the people
feeling like a woman
looking like a man
without an umbrella
walking
walking in the rain

sadly she will never know
what it feels like to be a woman
in the same way as the oysters
knew that they would never be
a friend of the walrus

looks are just looks
ask any mescalin affected
french existential author who
has been stalked by a lobster

she prunes the rose bushes
in the little park at the back of notre dame
with her sapphire encrusted garden shears
and fur edged rubber gloves
in the rain
walking
walking in the rain

someone spoke to her there once
asked her for a haircut
everyone cheered
when she slapped his face with a bunch of wet roses

Family Skeleton

dverse

her sadness was so palpable
it could fill a room
and saturate the wall with tears
they said

there was no way out for her

she grabbed
the only piece of rotten driftwood
floating by
when she was drowning
knowing
it would only keep her afloat
for a while before
he would take a mistress
and another
and yet another

everything was against her
the times her gender her class
her religion her melancholia
her inability to accept
her role as an underling
a wife of the times

she fought like a tiger
and burnt the house down
they said she was mad
i don't think so

her sadness left its imprint  on
her children  and their descendants
to this day they carry it
like the cross on a donkey's back

Words

billions of them
outnumbering the stars in the ether
meaningless pops in bubble wrap
the eyes hold the meaning
say more in a flash
even when teeth are bared in a smile

we become deaf to words eventually
blades forever blunted no longer hurt
we have survived
we grow a thick skin from too many thrusts
sticks and stones finally kick in

we hear more in the silence
we learn to look into the eyes of words
a lot talk of love
but the eyes
the eyes of the words are killers
they cannot lie

Love Is The Meaning

 dverse

my words
may be just feathery seeds
softly brushing your hand
or simply irritating
lodged up your nose
or just floating flecks
not even felt at all

but
for you
i would like them to be
a strand of diamonds
wrapped like arms around you
with each thought
a kiss
on your lovely neck
so you think of me every day

Dear God

God is English son
everyone knows that except
some Americans
























made room in the yard
i even have a saddle
please do not tell mum



cancel my ticket
if jennifer horton is
going to heaven






 




my brother's awful
could you please take him back and
give me a puppy