New Poetry Collection - Corpus Delicti: Selected Poetry


I have nearly completed my next collection of poetry to be (hopefully) published by James Ward Kirk Fiction sometime soon. The title I have chosen is Corpus Delicti: Selected Poetry. Over 150 poems and with an amazing Tais Teng cover thanks to Mr Teng himself via James Ward Kirk. Good people.

Anyway, I'll share the cover as soon as it's finalized. Stay tuned.

P.S. Here's some poetry that is included in the collection:


Petrification



some say it takes a lot of things
to break you down
but when it is given from above
one time – without justification
is all it takes to break
your world
when above
is where you only look

& more times
are sure to follow
as the hunter stalks prey
& this one time
            is all it takes
            to allow more of the same

the chocks beneath the wheels
have been removed
have disappeared, like so much dust
to set in motion
this caboose of pain
careening down your life
a drunken master steering

these are the cards
we’re dealt
dispassionately
objectively, almost

like so much propagation
in a petrii dish of sorts
a la bacterium
this roll of the dice.






Observations in a den of inequity



went to the casino the other night
sitting there
stone
cold
sober

pumping coins into a whore
of a machine
& she wasn’t giving me anything
in return

in this Mickey-mouse
neon tragedy
with all its banal bells & whistles
I looked around
at the dead flowers
being ground, into the putrid colours
of the casino carpet

& everyone looks like they’re going down
on this sinking ship
& everyone looks like me
ten
twenty
thirty
Christ! even forty years
tomorrow



Hungry for Oblivion


the neighbours are at it again
i can hear their screams & grunts
& thuds & things
i just want to scream
‘SHUT THE FUCK UP’
but i don’t

i just lay in bed with blood
pumping through my temples
plotting violent means
for violent solutions

i concentrate on a dog barking
a little further up the street
“just go back to sleep,” she says to me
i roll over and dream of a river of cold beer
just before i dive in
my mouth salivating
erect as a pigeon with rigor mortis
hungry for oblivion

just before i dive in
the fucking siren hits the end of the street
& pretty soon
the slap of feet on pavement running
wading thru my river
radios crackling
thuds & thumps arrest the echo of the previous

& i know that they had just gone back to bed
sore & bruised but nonetheless exhausted
& resolved to sleep
just as i had been
yet somehow there is cold comfort
in this new noise of violence
relief i guess
that i’m not on the end of it
& it’s us grumbling in the dark
about those fucking neighbours
i try dreaming of something stronger
maybe a river of whisky this time



Past Midnight


past midnight
tired as hell
eyes cracked/crapped
blood bulbs/egg shells
& the fingers click
on the keyboard, arthritic
& it’s medicinal heaven – eyes zoom in
eyes zoom out
u tripping
or just flippin’ me the bird?
yeah, me the bird
& i’m flying home to you
that’s right
if your looks could kill
i’d be cut up
mutha . . . .

o, never mind then
just go.

you better call the shots
see the arrows             for
where they lay & cast your gaze
‘cross that beautiful smile
in the mirror
of my heart

& then he wakes up

from his vaselined dream
& his bed’s still single
& he’s still stoned
thinking about that other one
you know the one
the  brunette one that lives
down memory lane
at number 2
it’s a split life
so just obey
            obey
            obey
            obey           
the hunger of your heart
dear one.



Evil Speaks


evil speaks to me
like a mother fucker
spitting words into my ear
like a dirty punk
hell-bent on scalping me
of my last twenty dollars
for nothing
i couldn’t give myself
like a cop with an attitude
hell-bent on half measures
& beating the difference
out of some poor sap

violence with words
stabbed me to near death

i’m speaking good stuff
but i ain’t listening
and you keep talking, evil
i can smell your breath on my neck
as you molest me again
i can feel your sweet fluid
drowning my lungs
with your malt whisky love

i listen to your music
& it ain’t mine
but the beat goes on
& glasses clink & clank together
in this slow motion murder show
played out before my tired eyes
it reminds me of a dark night under a damp jetty
the cold ocean
lapping at my soaked shoes
dead again to the world
survived again
another night alive again
barely
evil speaking
clichés & come ons
into the dawn



In the meantime, want some more poetry?
 

www.amazon.com/Death-Quartet-Short-Horror-Fiction-ebook/dp/B00FPT3MZQ/ref=la_B003PA513I_1_8?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1394356177&sr=1-8



http://www.amazon.com/Moment-Freedom-Selected-William-Cook-ebook/dp/B009XZI7LC/ref=la_B003PA513I_1_11?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1394356177&sr=1-11

 Poetry, Death Quartet, Moment of Freedom, Temper of the Tide, Corpus Delicti, Tais Teng, James Ward Kirk,

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