The correct amount of infinite

she says that it is too early she says she is writing a poem he says why and but she says to express things that don't get said he says like what and she says like if you ask a questio

Could that have possibly been us now forgotten most probably

but then

even now

still in the frame ?

of the photo perfect

framed which now

the subject of even

a poem that might be lost

in apocalypse or ice age

global warming

inconsiderate self

destroyed people all over

even on The earth

but focussed right through

each other and onwards

to snatch the infinite

wandering sprawly forms in of lifefrom the god who is

All.

tv chaos

melts warm and sticky

into the private messages

mellow to the soul

but green lush lawn

savannah spread world

which melts

the visual field

to sea

i am a bit

attracted to shorter forms of

writing or even music with its ideas stripped of wordthat could only ever leave one

reachless

but grasping at pause

the cause of all

will be revealed when

it no longer matters

very much

if

at all

unending

is the strength of it

as liquid as the sea

the magic of the Tragical can it other be

is nothing short of Unmiracle from first we mouth our breath and yet beyond the pinnacle

we only see what's left

when dearest change of

All begins

and yet we call it theft

when ever is discussed

i composed a love poembut it was

far too syrupy for academia

i composed a clever quatrainebut it lacked soul and elanfor the Common readererand so

of the national park

of his last dream

He

remonstrated with

huge pink hands

the size of Roman cloud which might have been expressive

the EXAct same size

of All

he says he is writing the great australian novel.

but she says it is too late

he says he is composing a significant neo post modern plu perfect late romantic piece of music.but she says it is f a r too late

he says he is going to bed

she says

that it is too early

she says she is writing a poem

he says why

and but she says

to express things that don't get said

he says like what

and she says like if you ask a question but don't

use a question mark

and therefore

sometimes i think i am her

without a question withall

but then

a true poem will be just the right lengthand leave All

nothing unsaid

or is it nothing unsaid

and just the right length?

in any case it will leave you feeling satisfied

a true poem will be just the right lengthand leave

nothing unsaid

or is it nothing unsaid

and just the right length?

in any case it will leave you feeling satisfied

of the national park

of his last dream

cafe is the same differentanswer me

is that the question

since I have nothing

so am I

ready to give

my

All

that thing

to which we cling chimes only once

the rest we chase

to again embrace the ringing

in our strings before the vibe

is lost

for all time

click go all laptops

clickety click click

i am out of here

yet i need more of it

to function as a word

that no one knows all

keyboard sighs yet have

no say

never know

warm worlds of grey

or the wet afternoons

spent

not even thinking

but yet still growing

towards a light of something

yet obscure and only seen clearly through yet more rain

coherent moments are really clouds

so that we slip

and fall

into deep clarity

with nothing to hold our us fully reasonable implore request sanity

so falling is All

the mind can see

or really be

rapidly rapidly fast and rapidly

whirling forth unceasing flow

gurgling churgling thingling wobblingcertainly certainly how thoughts growand hold the mind apart together

watch the eddying

watch your figure

ever able to flinch the trigger

happily zappily roll along

life will find a whole new song

until

we find ourselves on the other

side of the long slow gulf

between us all

serious as crimson

rising in a Rothko sky

long long ago

before i had first died

at the end of a long lived life

my next life as an otter

from another pen you would pay more attentionand not just wander half hurried

across these lines

that raise gaps

that fall through gaps

yet that is all we have

and all we need earn on earth

to leave the earth

the gap we cannot leave

he was a master of the short form

he why not she a lass was reading the Idiot

on a quite fast train

moving slowly

towards

another 27 year old man

of age foggy and with yellow steam in his eyes

as if a gleaming wet prince of travel

as he read

until morninng

which light could not be clearly seen

unless commencing to read

the idiot on a train

of thought as in Russian comfortable with angstalthough very soon he would talk quickly

as if the other man

cold through the slow night

might slip away and lose

his warmth

thus began the story

as you might have already expected

because that is the beginning of all trains of thought

just warmth

seeking warmth yet so

missing

its connection

nothing much happened really

if all was were accounted for

then what place is there

for the unaccountable

zoo for untamed

whorls'

eddies half formed

leaning inclinational danger mouse lion licked paws of pause

where fresh can breathe

loud and alone

for now

enter Train chased by a Bear

]

if all was were accounted for

then what place is there

for the unaccountable

seeming repetition of the same verse

perhaps even a zoo

licked paws of claws

fresh mint can hold

the incipience of weather in the air

but that lion knows

it is not mint

just a clue never to expect nothing

because the smell of fresh

is life itself unto all

if i tell you what i am thinking you will not be able to stop yourself from seeing only its

me

the things unbound by what i left out

for fear of burning toast

in my little kitchen hiawatha crimson mind

silly little thing

dissemble my unprotected soul

until you see its knot

and cannot guess

at what

I am

about

strangely then

you will want

to know me

and probably willask for more

if only

then

if only then were

things said

but no thing

would be changed

and depth evaded

unlike the massive depth of seabelow the surfers

sea turvy cross below

with changing all

but could ever

have said or even

grasped all that

never too late ?

as summer snow

unless change of heart restart

but then where would the escalator ?

if kept a tree only

it was a time whose idea had come

and far be it for her

whom knew not

his own

lines

to learn

for recitable income

some old thing that sounded good at the time

as Big Ben

is only good

for being Big Ben

but nothing else

The last syllable

of recorded time

was a bad take

and so had to be re recorded

but was it still then

the last ?

and

what was

Shakespeare to weather on that particular day ?

pink whitewash on a Cornwall

coasted whitesurf day ?

can meaning possibly be

all that elusive ?

yes! said the redwhite cracker-jack and laughed his pocelain soul

to crack

and that is all

that is owed

to drugs

Life isn't Everything

even very slowly

and found music fit

for an opening ceremony

lit the whole thing

the Whole Thing

a bonfire of big bang theories

blown reeling to Obliviata

where all creatures wait their turn

a sarcophagus came by post

today

full of Emilies

and other

unbelievable souls

But then Charlie Ives

leapt out quite quite

slowly

and found music fit

for an opening ceremony

and an Olympic bonfire

for the vanity of Life

lit the whole thing up

like Creation

a bonfire of big bang theory

blown reeling to Oblivion

where all creatures wait their turn

long long ago

before i had first died

at the end of a long long life

so then I rewrote such trite

as the shoe factory

has no place for cobblers

and will thus

never produce a real Pinocchio

I found an elephant !

in Australia she age 5 told me

but was not supposed to have

it

is meant to be marsupial

but elephant

it surely was

yet its tail was snappy

and it walked just like a pogus stickis

so they would not name it elephant because that would not have rhymed they named it Pogophant

and killed it till it bled

and all this a little child told me

as she was falling asleep

and let confusion go

a forgotten balloon

when her sweet warm long mind has died

I will remember that

if fluid

{almost strawberry

but more exotic ginger were even more opungent almost eucalypt ground

in pepperberry}

was breathed in

it was with fresh gills given before evolution knew anything at all

before any need of

never mind

she said as if minding quite a lot

never mind

i said

was a good title for something or other

and that i might use it for a collection of little poems that i would possibly never finishbut

never mind

she said as if minding quite a lot

never mind

i said

was a good title for something or other

and that i might use it for a collection of little poems that i would possibly never finishbut

nothing much happened really

he said to a phone in taxi

but through

text

it became

so much more

because when he arrived home

he sewed it up into a neat little bow

thing that cried

for almost no known reason at

all

but yet it was born of the nothing little text that wasjust to realease her from her tube cold wait

in LondonTown anony mouse

for what is a City

except to make us crave

each other's crave

and make it sew

when swelling time

inflicts such rain

as pregnant clouds

their mountain seek

All commandments

reach their pique

and leave behind what need for rhymejust gather up

and feed them cloud

no higher aim

no need a shroud

nothing ventured

causes pain

thoughts unthought

will swell again yet

sewing seems a worthy

aim

when swelling time

inflicts such rain

as pregnant clouds

their mountain seek

All commandments

reach their peak

and leave behind what need for lime just gather up

become

them cloud

several animals

on this pl;anet

have the sort of f;ur that yo;u neeed to touch but yet

the so;rt of teeth

beyond belief

She tried to do a profit=loss

of Everything

unblinded by her heart

but when she tried to

reconcile

her balance proved quite jugular

and spurt

rapidly rapidly fast and gurgling

rapidly

whirling forthlyflowly

spuurgling churgling thingling wobbling

eddying NorthPole Santa seek

little child

life will turn its other cheek

Eucalypt greygreen Straylia grasps

the nettle on his palms but evenSo

Sundaynight sighs sad dreams into

our creaking soul

hurt too much

to tell

there is nothing at all

like anything else

although it sometimes seems

so

there is something like nothing else

as if that could

her voice alone

ever change words

her lingering eyes spoke

the same old night

could change All that

the same old night

yet each pain different

samer older night

through every strand

a sarcophagus came by posttoday

and found music fit

for an opening ceremonyand an Olympic bonfire

for the vanity of Life

lit the whole thing up

a sarcophagus came by toast

today

full of Emmlings

and other

believable ghouls

But then Charlie Spriteze

leapt out cloudly

and found mules fit

for a fiddler

blown reeling to Oblivion

where all creatures

wait their fur

to begin aginin JamesJoyce throng the celestial allness

of their song

the savage crows

till it gets its way with

lawless birds

that rarely play

they sit along the power linesand watch old actors

mull their wines

the caw unwinds

chews its mane A

nother crow that sings its core

is he and she

before the War

Once were cleaners

now its flaw

once were diamonds

adament what he said

to Eve

so off she went

and mulltiplexed

her races run

but rarely won

save no spare a thought

for thinkers:

that breed of ultramarine swimming speciesthat know how to corral an inclinationand mount it like a canadian

his moose

not

save no spare a thought

for thinkers:

that breed of earthbound speciesthat know how to wormwood lust

her garden rake

to keep out sense

and weeds

seven men began a war

did they ?

so boats of paper historysay

or will they crumple

even more the caramel

of civilization creamed

and crushing guilt

by front men only ?

women and children innocent

as splashblood wedgetail eagle

but who

could ever

hold them to account ?

far better best

sparkticles she called them All-heaven gigglyblonde girl

with green soul

in her filled-warm eyes

floating still to mine

made me forget the need

unfit for human consummation

yet still commended

her hair every strand

And then what Sun could resist

What moon

pull up

the struggling sea ?

"So " they thought

Clear coherent moments

the couch sleeps at midnight exhaling the dazeimpressions of various bumsall unseated by moreimportant places to be

unseated by

because life is a series of unseatings

justwhen webecome comfortable

lifeasserts its warpnwheft on ourbums

and kicksus allover

the damneduniverse of otherpossibility which we must rise

to meet

The human cost is infinitenutshell

jackals fresh from zoo

locked up in something new

in which to jungle gorge

The hardest thing

of all

Is to set down in words

what will last

And so as it happened he was offered a chocolate

Not so much offered as presented

Because the giver of the chocolate well knew the worth of the offering

And even moreso the worth of the chocalatee to whom it was proffered

In fact that was the whole idea.

In any case

He ate it

It was dessicated apricot inside

Infusing the whole tongue with picaresque qualities

Just as it threatened to be too sweet a sharp subtle nudge of cinnamon and nutmeg and something else brought it back And if the cayenne threatened to disperse or explode and recoil that tongue

The crisp violet and orange sugar, with crystals of raspberry curtailed the lunge.

It was just perfectly balanced

And so much so that he knew after the first few seconds that it was no longer the Taste itself

that was surroundingly disarming and effusing his soul

No

he was slain not by even the texture or even admiration for the Craft of its creation

But by something so powerful as to clutch his whole being

Which was

The fullest succumbing to a sense of Trust in the creator

That he could relinquish All grip of suspicion and let that trust trickle from tastebud

Through to every sinew and axon in his gooey potato self.

And so as it happened he was offered a chocolate

Not so much offered as presented

Because the giver of the chocolate well knew the worth of the offering

And even moreso the worth of the chocalatee to whom it was proffered

In fact that was the whole idea.

In any case

He ate it

It was dessicated apricot inside

Infusing the whole tongue with picaresque qualities

Just as it threatened to be too sweet a sharp subtle nudge of cinnamon and nutmeg and something else brought it back And if the cayenne threatened to disperse or explode and recoil that tongue

The crisp violet and orange sugar, with crystals of raspberry curtailed the thought.

It was perfectly balanced

And so much so, that he knew after the first few seconds, that was no longer the taste itself

that was surroundingly disarming and effusing his soul

No

he was slain not by even the texture or even admiration for the craft of its creation

But by something so powerful as to clutch his whole being

Which was

The fullest succumbing to a sense of Trust in the creator

That he could relinquish his grip of suspicion and let that trust trickle from his mouth

Through to every muscle and cell in his makeup

Which then basked as a cat in the sun

With no other thought than

It is Good and it is Mine.

And then.

I lost my cat.

and I was sad.

I may have been inconsolable.

One year later another cat arrived

on my doorstep.

Was it even the same cat ?

It looked that way

except more lithe

more affectionate

more animated

more seriously inent on me

what to think

and then I did

the Lord taketh

and only then does he giveth