Alchemisland poetry

https://alchemisland.wordpress.com/

[alchemisland]

Ode to a thwarted

No eyes trialled my writing, thereby

Nursed I bitter eggs near bursting time. A bushelled shine;

The downpushed reclimbs like denied orgasm the ladder of the spine.

All life’s down and plush serves to hide as blush denies whiteness

The programmed, android emptiness of succeeding.

Weeding until I wheeze, trying to squeeze out something exceeding.

The loneliness of the keeper of keys

I am the last flea on the dying pit champion’s split flank

I am the last rat who refused to flee while my family walked the plank

Bird-harangued sun’s sprayed orangutan, from these Kraken-deep docks

I set the scene, I mark the spots

I dread the dreams that start these off

Worrying starting odds I am desperate enough to brush off

Embrace as opportunities to air out my raring pluck.

[alchemisland]

A Quiet Word Between Gentlemen - III

Her bitten lip evoked one lemontongued

A summoner’s rapture caps her distance when she cums

Afterward she is forthcoming briefly, before her armour recomes.

Gordon recited glumly his observations

Do his flying visits to the courts of excise not oft coincide

With the pot-moulder’s wife’s trips to old Moulden on Rye

Where Sam lived alone in a cottage bone white

With nice flowerbeds outside, and nice beds inside?

Such focus on matters transient. A bowerbird’s stylings

Masquerading as a stylite.

Sam remembered her heightened Novemberine paleness beneath the ivy-inviting skylight

Made utterly fae, his own uncanny faded painting.

Her timeless beauty to him recalled: phonographs hooting,

Star-hearted cowboys displaying gargantuan thunderbirds in photographs.

Sam buried beyond recollection her uprided skirts, her prideless searching

For hidden blisses. Falsely thinking themselves mist-robed and unmissed.

His buried erection. Their growing obsession. Churchback kisses.

Gordon’s subtle chiding chimed kindly, even childish

But his molten fireish eye upbraided Sam’s craven pleasures,

Whose mindback’s backing track was straining leather’s crack.

Their elbows were locked like arms lop-stymied

For what felt like forever.

[alchemisland]

[alchemisland]

Secret bonfires

I watched a mucky sod suddenly sodden with startled starling shadows

Knew God. Struck out for new clod, floundered in cod-haunted shallows

I imagined dashed ambitions matching my uncapturable mission: Flodden

King bonnie King dead, bonfire-fit banner trodden; Napoleon’s modern

Army newly modelled useless as quadriremes bottled.

You could not accuse this wittering ditherer of being too revealing.

[alchemisland]

Ceaseless charge

What persists banks posterity. What languishes vanishes ere

Our antisocially unreachable near future’s visiting ear appears.

Lacquered night reminded amazed remarkers of mighty vases, Greek

In style. The simple amazements we denied are retried;

Rightly sized the glass slipper slides onto the right sister.

[alchemisland]

The oracle’s eyes

Her every facet stows madding fantasy

She is that mansion languishing into ruinous beauty

What she sanctions on a whim becomes my sacred duty

Her jewel-sister epistle readers seem to reflect, to my eagerness, the best

The worst of me is deflected

She is election manifest, her selection anoints

Austral her voice, she entices the scoundrel to wiser council

A gown fae-wound, decorated with eyes

Birds reach higher notes to signal her arrival

She reduces me to a goat

Her golden votives, about which the humblest mote would gloat

Are imagined unworthy as unsanctioned tabloid photos of boat

Suicides.

[stolenhead]

ruined immaculate oh how i am divided and splayed, a fawn for leather this childish flesh spoiled with godfear darkening and growing tender already under the labor of carrion beetles anoxia, a birth as blue as the eggshell sky that shivers with the static of a held breath a hurricane whispering down from heaven, this brand new life

[alchemisland]

A Quiet Word Between Gentlemen - II

That o’er-happy husbandman cautioned, quietly and off to one side

Loud as thought to thinker the bloodrush of a fingered guilty. Veins tauten.

‘Twixt cordon and rust-gingered byre oft-sidled by

The pride-prickling matter of Gordon’s prick-pickling wife.

The accuser’s unlively lips jutted out to meet the bounder.

The listener’s nose ripe breath battered; stink of whiskey;

To hold or even wrinkle one’s nose tantamount to flinching.

Tomlongwhiskered was Gordon Fynes, moustaches one minded could plait

Gordon spat near Sam’s spats then laughed, smug as

Come now the hour of his brashness!

One sanctioned action in a life of wild rashness. The hourglass flashed.

Gordon’s finger brandished damagingly, near the ravisher’s eye

Would pry out purloined images of his uninnocent wife Imogen Fynes

Ní Lyons.

Their alliances were conducted in mucky barns, in monklike silence

Two straw calumnies courting bunnylike upon a binding-cooking pyre.

A pilum violently spiking a lion’s side,

Gordon poked his cuckold’s chest, that image in his mind.

This hamlet’s, mostly toothless, denizens harbour yet viking genetics

Even as Gordon confronted him, Sam recalled her uphiked hems, ethicless

Attempts at earth-trapping Heaven. Between her fur-trapper legs, begging

Ox-strong with salmon-cunning, none finer abroad the stretch

And she had taken him, Sam Cunningham Wilder, to her quiet bed

[alchemisland]

The aping shadow

Even relapsing fails reenchanting flaccid synapses.

Old wallpaper damp-warped,

Half-scraped from my soul’s facade.

Do we strive to fit pitiful shapes

Or are we made at penetration inferior creatures?

Her wolf hair posterior-reaching covered like a woollen cape

Her scar-striated vertebrae.

Her features each leeched of plainness

By the eager projections of come courters.

In glum quarters at close quarters,

We rubbed source off a quarter.

Her inescapable beauty quartered my drawn portion,

My spine impossibly inclined, wide as a yawn.

[alchemisland]

Bottling an ineffable

By sheepish weir she appears with ireing fleetness

I know in my bones, in my toes, in my throes

I am that hireling she seeks.

From the parapet of a threatened nest

The sharkfin impression of a beak

Seeks out from wattled thorn and hay and down

To speak confoundingly

Of lovers sworn to smothering others

In cloud-managed language.

[alchemisland]

[alchemisland]

Union of profound antipodes

Rather than reject my acid, something tacit forms ‘twixt two sides

Puce-eyed I’m that high, we discussed life beneath Orion’s light

We were thieves who took from day by extending night

Our delight made moments monthlong

Three days if we had been in a cave they would praise us

I shield my fielding amethysts, your wince-demanding rays

Touchless, please with me imagine the amorous

And lustlessly enscribe the mind’s cameral

Let the divide itself be divided and set aside. The hammer

She takes to my steel-glamoured face releases a kept visage

I stammer to thank my visitor, praying that I am not dreaming

Often I have seen her as a blur of capricious steam

I scheme as only one o’er keen can, I believe what I must to have.

[alchemisland]

Courting a sorceress

I feel a bastard’s rejection

Masterless, my knifed cask asked lacking direction

My protected heart electively plated in hard, gnarled, scarred armour

Slept alarmless corset-tight confined inside a casket of blasted firestone

The pyrearm force of her attention retired to legacy my defences

She cast upon that vast deep a dark-kin shadow, she a Pegasus

Which a sunblot will not trick. Addicted, her mixture renders me legless.

[stolenhead]

bedbound at the regularly scheduled interval. my blood a hornet swarm. my heart, a sparrow, starving. shimmering mirage my spine hardly touches the mattress. how hard it is to be still, to feel this body aging, this siphoning of stolen hours. you dream with open eyes, a warden rapt by the evidentiary splatter of my sanguine notions. unclean. here i am when your sleep covets the fever of my starsick body how needful, your unconsciousness. not my doe-eyed dark shot through with waltzing geometry. dogs howling in my good ear. my name over and over. over and over, i'm falling through the ceiling, conspiring with an attic full of ghosts.

[alchemisland]

Well of venom helping vellum

Sentiment commonly is wasted

Pasted on in gaudy layers, tastelessly

For a wickworth of prick-burst amazement.

Waistwarding cement

Call of a gallingly open casement to a wayward halfbird

The forgotten safe word was Ashford.

[alchemisland]

Congealed souls

I have never needed to be allowed

Go without, around, if resistance cows

Heeded little the creed of my house

Dream, cedar seed, stellar plough and cloud my saviours.

My lowing heart gentled now, anxious away from its cave

Suddenly seeks out. A single gaze’s loud bleaching

Has breached the sealed bastion of my passions

What of me the sea’s deepmost gaoled whale-beaches,

Unfrail creature you are the grail within reach.

I would scour determined every arid latitude to have you

Time makes no obstacle. Soon there is here, here there

I will ascend cronenose crags

I will root through Cronos’ stomach slag

To see you. E’en from the back you are a classical statue.

Hair corvid black, Spaniard tousled

In some blouse larger than your span, which a sea wind billows enticingly

I wait for your spit, my icing

The worm turning, on a spit.

[alchemisland]

A Quiet Word Between Gentlemen - I

When in Siamese proximity residing, much by necessity is implied

And all requires prior design. At wan light time, whitewashed, swannish

With haughty day’s honest fire quashed

The first Boche-shell burst of uncurtained eternity; far Mars a fox hanged.

Labourers dusty return hungry from thankless days parading oxgangs

Maintaining mortarless gates, sustaining estate selvedges

Surveying with envious gaze the reckoned-superior grazing spans

Sere-seeming their own oft-teeming lands. Wise adage

That greener all grass stands from the farseer’s vantage.

That or this glistening clime surpassing far a neighbour’s pasture.

The absentest farmer, the blow-in, who despite disaster, lapsing corn

And wilting flax jilted misery, jape delivering whilst he laughed.

The requisite mask allowed lapse

Proudness found unflattering, unallowable, where they plough and thatch.

Gordon accordingly called Imogen cow

Slattern who could not tend a house, anything to provoke a row

From the mouse, but he was a sly fox, who never let anything out.