threats

this fiction of mine laboured flux in the skull

of mysteries and memories worked by furies

to the wheel is dealt a willing thread

into my masked man´s clasp

he sets my steps unfailing to his pull

and tells me purblindly my flesh is dirt

and mine the shards of faith i tread

(hope is on hold at the scafold)

and within the walls riotous voices call

a thousand and one kabbalahs

each one proposing direct cause and each one

spousing next one each one imposible

as the previous certain

(here Anguish live from The Cherry Point –

now turned to truths the nerves so harshly keep

i run my yarns along the plank i blindly trip

the fall is free…

(at the trapdoor to serve the lores of a cretin one

bows his head and one places tightens the noose  

 

just before sixty -about 23:38- and clueless still

801 live...25 or 6 too...for one proceeds to separate all things

with the understanding that those episodes thought of as

terminated chain a chain faithless in the inevitable outcome

and here they come -everyone tells us about father time-

-when it tics when it tocs and there's someone who sounds

a gong one who rings a bell even a tuba blast is on the score

she asks about your frame and you answer without shame

-yes...and yes this and yes that...blast it all

we rant with or without objective references making 
exception with laboured ideas and feelings mirrored

with images extracted from past experience and perception

-let us say fiction pouring out as fact over dreams over

(margarita, play a song you blind tart...or is it magdalena)

say...your number would be...what...

the number of angels who fell from heaven on fire 
winging wildly in the torn wind crying 
is said to be set in the great black mercy book

but how many of them found the earthbound way 
is anybody's guess

one sound check with the countless souls 
who through abominable deeds and wicked counsels 
found themselves in the same position

may yield the suspicious data needed to arrive 
at the desired number

any coincidence with the memberchips of one bikers 
gang and their alleged chapters would be matter 
for further consideration although you should know 
that coming down is best in the company of our cohorts 
if only to feel less lonely 
'cause wailing is of no avail when the wind cries mary 
ramona or any number and blows you burnt clean 
leaving life's shadow fixed in a grin

boulders

because of man's zest obstinate with success 
stones roll faithless and as we climb the hill
we meet them head on

once capsized they furrow our backs

-it's a world diverged calling for carnage 
at the sight of flesh

these operations yield a speed and curve 
unabridged of guilt dealt with all desires squared 
in a puzzle fair 
by a spread of ladies in shadows
-oh yes that old trade- ready to maim

whoever collisions fittingly 
emotions in hand

it's a piece of our heart laid on the table 
to bid on a rumor of one fanciful ride 
on the yellow blunt gallows where hangs 
the knowhow of our fathers' hell -we 
envision they nod on the stars to lit 
the skies all -we do not understand care
-we roll in the fall who drove wolves 
blowing sea shells for pure joy as 
the cups spill overflowed with betrayal

-we hear a far rumble...boulders we think

it's the one with the stone wallowing 
in the stumble -never short of faith nor ever 
short of rock bottom- there he rolls and tries 
and pushes the stone up the hill once again

as careless the shadow of a lady cuts
his breath

everyday spirits

look the statue in the eye...make sure
there is no wanton prayers
remember mother sang through the midday call
in the face of a well known score and dilligently
no matter what her chores
while the children pranced to a ball
-forsake me not / gimme shelter / i'll walk down
and turn on everyone at the other end-
behold! our praise is shattered and blown to bits
are the chances to connect with one burgundy
madonna -stanced whip in hand-
to master the punks hollerin' shindy
she addresses all under a wild sun to exorcize
their nature with pangs communal
and set them straight on their way to heaven

it followed reeling shadows reaching everywhere
in the evening bloom mom had gone and the kids
danced to a blur the icons of an afternoon

comin' live

being becomes night first
with a great downpour of light
-instantly dearest- to everyone
in the starless ship awash
with flooding rain and drowning seas 
the black pirate flag waves bye-bye 
on the grinning crew -always ready-
to fly into that mist of sunburst
within the fixed brain
and blow the faint of time
dead on its birthday