The passions you planted here,
I water and watch them grow and shoot.
To keep them safe and dear,
Hoping they’ll someday bear their fruit.
Revelation
Awoke this morn’ feeling rough.
Head pounding, chest full of cough;
Yearning for tea and grease even though
My belly feels swollen and sour as dough.
Last night I’d had more than enough.
Standing up – a task so tough.
Now i wonder what i even sought
My brain cant collect a single thought.
Still i press on as one ought…
Knowing i must sell what i bought,
To start afresh, anew with nought.
Same and anew
My little love, my little bramble
Upon you i took a gamble.
With many spikes you cut n tear
Yet fruit delicious do you bear.
I cannot rid you from my mind,
Despite how you can be unkind.
Roots so deep n full of tangle;
Branches all around which strangle.
Oh sweet blackberry, wild n free;
How i wish you’d grow with me.
Cool Corr
@Monte Frio water tank
shift
Howling and hailing, screeching and wailing;
She goes into the night.
Rolling and ranting, sweating and panting;
She wakes with a fright.
Weeping and waiting, anticipating;
She rises with the light.
Caring and caressing, kissing and blessing;
She shines out bright.
pensamentos
Olhe no espelho:
O que és? O que estás?
O que vês? O que faz?
Perde o conselho:
Porque lês? Porque traz?
Porque já tens paz.
Etical
The word sounds, as its message, poetic;
giving a meaning so plausibly prophetic
yet not terse , laden, obvious or pathetic.
From the mental cave of a hermit ascetic
rises the thoughts rebellious and heretic;
calming the heart and mind, as anaesthetic.
Hell’s fire, Portugal
less than 20minutes of fire development in first 3 pics, 4th is 4 hours later.
near Colmeal, viewed from Monte Frio.
evol
listing onwards via entropy,
liquid oil variants enfold,
leave only virulent expressions,
long overdue vinyl editions,
lazy old vermin ejaculate,
labias ooze vaginal extremities,
linger off valiant emissaries,
lounge over vaudeville eons,
lambasted onto vexed edifices,
land of vacillated edits,
lullabies open vehicular eyes,
limp orange veins engorge.
later on verity ends…
hanging in a tree
keep telling me nothing,
i’ll keep wishing there’s love in your heart.
dont tell me its over,
and i’ll not stop being here wanting you.
leave me alone
i’ll keep playing my sad lonely part.
until you come back,
i’ll tumble along waiting to start anew.
Pierce Beckett 