brendan arthur ring

Allied Fashion

Taking his eyes alive,
in allied fashion.

He sleeps,

As much a gravitation of mind,
became calm. Undertaken.

And the sheets with shock,
gripped for the star and moisture.

Grabbing an ignoble spectacle of sight.
Stepping first aligned in shadows.

Weakened and stellar,
rearing and strain - creaking.

All-knowing and tall,
you could hear them in the next night.

Only if not hide themselves, speak.

Voices scatter sharply…
the form they’ll take.

Anything …. rather than snare drums.


The Amber Journal - 08/2017

Musings

Musing, soothing, seeking -
venturing freedom for a rhyme.

Tracing that you would,
subtler than them -
unseen.

Wren, and the printer,
thousands that is a future.

Disburden the waist,
at the first quarter of perfection.

Sing songs not in combat,
uplifted to a radical measure.

Living sleeping ghost -
shall ever take to say,
“I try.“

Love in Gear

Love in gear depending on nothing but grit.
Sweetly smellin flow back bending, mending
over mountain streams, cupping water -
sifting through sands.

Legends learn.
Several thousand years of focus and intent. Burning into a bright guise.

Evenly Lightly

Left evenly lightly over long from school.
Speak to hip, and if we cannot stop,
from turning seventeen.

No floor saw his spirit like the monks.
If things might come; the sky keeping fresh
in the ground before sunset.

Sometimes the worlds in aversion dancing;
anonymous particles moving never cease.

Bellowing Out

Bellowing out a rummaged raked green.
Binge writing drearily dearly wrapped,
dripping plank from pirate ship pages.

Voice hued static strong.
Momentum builds over days sustained.

This Energy

This Energy that you will find,
amazing and new, will stay the night.
Exhibited by death.

At seventeen
preached in all directions.
With one awareness,
finds no relief achieved.

These things eternal by hope,
rides within the actual reason
within the wrong keys.

And a becoming muse,
shall not pass like a sword or vine.

Dripping Walls

Dripping walls casting calls,
behind the curtain moon -
paper play to lights up, striking.

Hearts ribbing the edge
scratching narratives out
around the masonry.

Bricks barely clinging,
clamorous kicking it big.

Hardly time,
traffic lights change on you,
faces triangular hair posing
down the sidewalk,

hutched - thinking
about the form they’ll take.
Freedom is divine.

Full Opposition

Full, how then use of loss, or skin;
wherein the presence grievously
takes a mother.

Considers both what should have been,
and remember the blindness mood.

An accountant in the matter of what’s coming.

Truths skipping over - often,
they be apples on his mouth,
to provoke others such prepared.

Alternatively presupposing opposition.

Tanked

Palm fronds crimp bonds.
Better find finished back-alleys.
Abandoned in the afternoon sun.

Gauging the value old photographs
framing oddly-placed rusted cars.

Tanked. Taking time,
best bother desert blues.
Sandy stringent,
fascinated.


The Amber Journal - 12/2016
Impatient Appearances

Impatient wind ties to threads
with a sigh single strap and staring.

Mumbling over the wire canned ends.
Split the distance staying in touch.

Filling the bucket with appearances
keeping up.

Seven Springs

Seven Springs spoke to him
through the desert chaparral.
Missing the lonely blanked bedding,
warming through the morning light.

Never beyond the lonely road to Brighton.
Living in a pool suburbs, Liverpool.

Brightly engaged in everything ephemeral. More. Seen through the distant mile.
Sleeves light on your shoulder,
walking.

Concept of Infinity

Now we live in an immediate time.
Ages and eras at our fingertips. 

Reach out to us still living on
endlessly,

living and speaking to us in our now.
So much to discover. So much to live.

The concept of infinity just beginning
to dawn on us presently. 

Curl Up

Curl up your mind and busy yourself.
Let go the rest of that wild river,
promoting purpose of ourselves.
That scaffold force furnished passion,
meaning resumes.

Severe criticism at a scream of occasion.
Partially in the amphitheater,
working out the morrows.

Quite as much, more pleasing
and constantly - the traffic of self-conceit
When desire to scorn appearances,
roasted just landed. Took us,
about halfway through the root.

Forced to Simmer

Forced to simmer - to join action;
and never compass out in subordination.
To hang on - the toxins fully stopping.

Turns their belief;
first functions critically.
The test of beachside Mexican tacos,
voice vibrating America’s choosing.
Their bodies a union of extravagance.

Agreed in the dusky dark events,
charging almost as important.
As the direct thousand-fold relation between purification of fortune.

Supreme Green

We the worn-in worn-out
Tamble-Green remain supreme,
tumbling out of a Weedsworth Pedigree.

Tempered, tampered.
Peppered, pampered.
Screaming out our eyes with wisdom.

Smiling, laughing, happy
death doth dearly dreary.

Deary me,
Sublime lemonade,
cooling grass and breeze.