Brashmania Creatina Polyvergo : Lozi's Poetry

What Did Happen?

When i found myself in times of trouble
there, back then
sh sh
hush hush
the blondie cousin boyfish in a doomy sullow/
memories or dream
the phallic touch
suggestion
was it?
Clutching at straws beyond the grandparents house,
round the corner was it?
there, back then
sh sh
hush hush
No more scene:later grown he
is awkwardly teenage
with a halfbroken voice
squiggly
gawky

I was the tape player/
little niles child
year 3
poked by midget thing,
some sort of scratching oh the tape's been eaten!
I sing along
it's all pretend
is he my friend?
I guess he was but i didn't have friends of my own age,
you see.

"I came round your house, and you ate 2 angel delights!"
That was the accusation.
The days when glutony was an extra portion
on my plate.

From cinderella to a too pink flamingo,
too chicken to audition.
Somewhere between me and me
the dysfunction of a trauma could have occured.
But i
just
don't
know...

 

To Please your Willow Eyes

Graceful in your willow eyes
i spy the special nose you bought me,
Cart aloof the general practice of mistfits/
down under
down under.
Baby dwarve faces in the mirror,
chuckling silently
with my cheque in hand at the cosmic cosmetic
surgery.
What worries me
at night, perhaps
the stitched mafia scars

oh well

You paid
each way,
and now old man/
i keep my face from wilting,
just so i may satisfy YOU

in your every need,
i strain
wish
need to please your judging eyes.
Under the knife
exhausted stains of wetlife
begin to bother
how's the weather?
are we nearly there yet?
Blood dripping past my
anaesthetic eyes.

Despised the face in the mirror,
against your graceful willow eyes.

 

Charlie Chuckle

Barnacles settle at the feet of his Teeth,
so apocolyptic/
the rays septically translate his hair>
so,
and so we meet again.
A glory tall,
"elementary my dear"
A surf-face in the blue/
that's you.
chains hanging
bandana
banana flow,
as thou hopping off
to stage work too.

 

Dai Dickie Day with Wild

Dai dickie day with WILD.
sensations
infuriating mean streak of bacon , devoid of spatuloic symptoms
each. piece. of. pi.
the circular problem
wishing on a slab of tar
makes no difference where you are-you WILL get stuck in it forever child
and then the storgeous board will chisel away at your feet

Dai dickie day with WILD.
gorillas zoo. icecream bland. a day of impugnant time ticking past like grey flies...
the circular problem
wishing on a nougat bar
you WILL be sick child
and then the dentsit board will chisel away at your remaining gums

Dai dickie day with WILD.
triumphant Vanilla,
her manilla envelope discussing the childs report.
repore.
and child you still sit in the corner to cry-
wishing makes no difference.
pray to stay a while child, so maybe you WILL fly child
and then God may collect, protecting you.
As you leave your chiselled body behind.

Dai dickie day with WILD

 

To Start a Storm

to start a storm
in the verging willow cracks:
be still the vocals of the trees,
be still
be still
in the deepest hill
a crumpled darkness attacks

Carved upon the bark of frightened skies,
the dark pretends to weep:
The lies of hidden melodies are lost within the wind
the wind
the wind
in the deepest hill
a crumpled darkness still prevails

The arms of rain are pierced by Paradises nails.
Skin,
and now the thunder sighing,
beating,
laughing,
yelling,
crying.
Time is lost for words.

The darkness tolls for thee,
yet not for me/
It only takes a butterfly to start a storm

 

Delorean

One day too in fact i'm sleeping
with a wishful face my fingers creeping upon the keys,
and she
her eyes
are following me
and in
this light
i can barely see her name
some foreign stranger
with a laugh and a half for hair,
and still,
i play on.

Raining down in three parts hunger
striving as i start to slumber away,
and she
her mouth
is smiling into space
and in
this light
i can barely breathe at all
some angel smiling
with a face of grace and light,
and still,
on i sing.

One day too in fact i'm crying
with a hopeful voice my fingers creeping upon the keys
and where
is she?
There's a space in front of me,
so cold
so cold
i can barely breathe at all
Oh angel smiling
with your graceful face of light,
i still
have a song for you.

Sorrow melts,
darkness fades,
this beckoning beauty loves.
Light as air,
Surrender bades me goodbye.

 

Safe Embrace


My Glorious
Inescapable against the skyline backdrop,
just You.
In amongst the floral clouds anointing, piercing Your light
as if to say "hello i love you".

So i may just stand here,
just for a while
in case the Sun comes out again to kiss me with His rays.
Splendidly/
there is no consolation for each constellation
at night
when the darkness clasps my brain,
and all around is a swirl of confusion,
God strolls by
winking in the stars
loving with the moon.
And all of sudden, there is no darkness.
Just a
blue hue.
Satin and silky lime a blanket.
I'm wrapped inside His embrace
in the lightest,
in the darkest of times.

I am safe.

 

No Other

many silent jewels of night
are pierced by fragrant sounds.
the everheavy air of now
resounds as misty minims

barred against the leaning gate,
anointed by the stars,
heavens perfect harmony
from the grass to the sheeted sky

and in the sweet sweet dark
i grasp at every note
and in the sweet sweet night
the angels song resounds
There is no other
no other
no higher God but You
There is no other
no better lover
no safer One,
but You

on the softest bed of green,
the ground beneath my feet.
my God has never felt so good,
nor ever sung as sweet

As saints we sing such melodies
of which are barely there,
for angels song and heavens joy,
is ringing in the air

And in the sweet sweet dark
the wind kisses my face
and in the sweet sweet night
the air is Gods embrace
There is no other
no other
no higher God but You
There is no other
no better lover
no safer One,
but You.

 

Tankus at The Wilmington

stretched across each sticky pavement
the arrows are blissfully unaware
oh where who is a tankus and tanus what?
who is dan mason?
what lovely fellows mastermind/
scratch forward into time
we:welcomed by the by and in the mingles
listen.
MUTTER
NUTTER
orgasmatron my brain
ears celebrating dynamite words.........
my kissing
kicking
krakatoan brain is lunar!!!
silent fingers
as mouths open and close
open and close
drooling at each figure change
lusting on ones instrument
lunacy in its rawest form is beginning to form a gentle
yet
enveloping smile on the pope's face
and we're just waiting on the cymbal to
pause

at each synths vibronic numerical form AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN
woooooooooooooooooo yeahh tsh booom tsh boomwa wa wa wa wa woo tsssssssshtssh
ts boom yeah!
as every yeah describes my entire balance
no face is exempt inept from greetings of unhappiness for all they hear is the sound of joy
A sigh lumic familiar high hi hat
help me?
mellow
and
buil-
ding
up
Bring me down no!
///////////////////////////////////
rawooohhh woah graaaaataohnbgjsdngjklsn
representing magic noise
an orange wall of sound
guitar madness ensuing amongst yoyo yeah yah
i can't breathe
Trial similarities begin and ska attempts
around russian polka
tempo braziloopads
zip
zip
zip
legs up owenboy
2strokes 2 quick like heartbeat sticking to our throats as we scream positives
1
2
5
witty witty phoenix love
climax and end.
great smiling smiling
boatship waves
slightly swaves swaying
blank bark of joyous glosticks etc
not much ado about nothin'
instead we're treading on sparkle paper
row and a wow our tummies
to rather quite chilly
fading my fingers as the trombone kicks in:
abandon paper she cries!
and in one steady jump lifting
lifting
lifted stool crumpet jingles
we're not too slow to join the half nakeds
creative wonder that such as she
couldn't write a whole setlist:
and so
bowing into submissive adventure,
we dance

 

Oli the Poet

Shway lost with lol's and shizzles,
each word follows as one foot in front of the other keeps going,
resounding like a monorail laser
(resorting to vegetarian fuel),
there's a serated edge in your figure,
yes...
no lobes i see,
but no matter
what difference does it make?
It just means the rain will fall down your head more quickly
(rather than lingering)
Keep talking,
keep walking,
keep moving that mouth and mind of yours/
so quick/
first impressions,
it sounds like it's raining outside but it's just the pub fan-
dude/man you seem so rare,
not meat rare, but...
ya know.
The kind of original hotpot you find in a foreign supermarket-
familiar products that won't razor your stomachs.
shway.
all i can say, cars go by,
time flies and zoom
acoink I go,
like an exotic pen breeder
writing you into a box on a page.

 

Mayonnaise Sunset

mayonnaise sunset
within each mortal infinite,
there speaks a muted sailor
lying on his bed of hay.
Garnished with a burnished eloquence,
he breaks/
Dotting independently,
suddenly gradual
before another mute speaks.

 

Footballers Worship


Fullers circle round again,
it's only some pound something pence.
No ID saved but laden,
so laden-
it's impossible to show a smile, occasionally.
There's a shelf upon the wall,
yes there is
and above,
some sorry samsung screen
(screaming idolatry)
Surrounded by the worldly flags as if to say
"worship me"
We're so accustomed to this game of balls,
where balls have no place
and hairgel is key.
We kill for winning,
we kill for losing,
in our ecstacy or dread-
several football fans lie.
Dead.

 

Breather

I've several heavy lanterns at my feet
as fear grips me inside
i'm obsoletely obliged to expand.
To contemplate some hope
(however small)
Trains and tubes only go so far
but in dark wetlands
west of wales...
I can't but help...
shuddering....at..
...this universe...
expanding
expanding
without recompense no ceasing ever building
to a finale of quintessential jubilance.
Settling for a gin on a moss covered log,
just for a breather.

 

The Gondolier of Hobden

Gondolier, so gentley punting down an Oxodian mode.
The river of Eloquence passing us by,
swift
switching and twitching the willow branches past/
piercing with those crystallized eyes,
Gentleman of illusion
his swallow call and mystical rain:
belong
belong

And before now, not too cold
the air unfolds its stormy dew.
Sprinkling upon some silky frame of that watery mirror
Gracefully, he sits below usunder,
grasping at the pole.
Devising with his mind and silently pensive,
drifting along the swift,
switching and gliding through the treecurtains-
so soon he breathes
so soon his mind slumbers,
but eyes in eye grow everstill,
ever watchful.
They hold the moon between their spheres,
each compensating the light in each misty globe.

Trinkling droplets
settling
dripping down the doe-eyed face of beauty,
that which is created
those cheekbones of desire so scaffolded into such a shape,
and when his mind begins to drift
the droll evening sways his gondoliac vessel.

 

Sunsets Setting

Why does the Horizon mean so much?
With its drifting line, so vertically twisted
in some horizontel maze,
amazed at the backup backdrop,
alluring
alleviating the final eye site that we,
in our vision,
can only muster up a single glance.
Every once-a-holiday the river
or seaside
proclaims its glory in a Venetian setting.
Contemplating the rooftops and shadowsacks,
we beckon and percieve pensively,
only to dream a while
of awakened Horizons like anon.

 

Silent Siren

Shadow siren,
amongst the deep, dark waves-
her epistles in her mouth upon the gravy air.
Shadow lady,
with mournful sighs she counts her sins/
accompanied by the lusty sailors echo.
He whistles tyrannically,
obtusely even/
And there, waits cockily against the mortar mast.

Sorrow, sorrow in it's virgin form,
cutting deeply into the colder heart.
Oh shadow siren, as you cry
much wavering about the skies devotion gives way.
Sallow eyes, he looks at you/
disgusted-taunted-who can tell?
The faded memory of a comely wench
in the forefront of his mind-
yet deleted.

"Who's my Savior?" whispers a past,
"what's a religious myth but a vacant brain?"
So soggily, our shadow wanes, as she recalls in pain.
Yet in her active paws of grasping need,
the hands of prostituted smiles-
waiting for the opportune breeze to seduce....
til death do us part.

 

Sunrae Anon

Tenfold the saggy hours of villa vie
avec it's tones, irrevant, perspirating at the sea.
pools of incontessant nouveau suites,
that pile into the lost sierra trees

Forward, sitting back to cherche the waking time,
the watersill of Desolate yet lapping at the verge.
Consistent, edging on the 'as yet to become',
lying upon a grassy lip of resting solitude.

Pursing my love with a daffophile, its wretched leaf a wilting sheet,
and on the silent wind an eye of caressed insomnia awakens.
Surreally blinking out the droplets of dew, we count the blades of Corcoran,
his nestled head a bed of sky.

 

Obnoxious Pupil-Blind

Granite overload of antiresting depth,
at solotution crests we damage all the pipes,
waiting on the clock to click attacks into the teachers skull.
Seeping ants that drive the wild/
separating every constitutive glance from Thatcher posters
(left no doubt from political concaves)
Beckon me closer old man, in that halitotal puff,
as spitting each.
individual.
word.
like some serenade to Hitler.
he's so sure with his heimlich manouver,
the resolution to save lifes with educative methods.
Slipping over the pav-ed tables,
leaning front
/carr carr/
bone marrow connected to the telebone,
borrowed utensils poking joy.
No wonder all the spitballs make a ceiling/
tarrow tarying at the pockmarked face,
i smirk at wrinkles avidly.
Too turdlike on MY turf.

 

Deathrow Substitute​

​

The deathrow rapists loved by He
unsettled crowds of worldy hate-
attack their words in cynic frowns.
Yet, angels crown the murderers stare,
and instead sits Jesus in the chair.​

 

Tongues of Flames

To Go-before GOD,
yes as with trembling souls
and hearts unfolding.
Screaming awesomeness unveiled/
torn apart in Holy fire with
Spirit, Love, Tears.
Opened heart so broken,
to go in obedience,
to dwell in pits perhaps/
there is no limit to travel,
no boundaries before us
when our Lord is involved.
To Go-before GOD.