plagiarise
1st Poem to plagiarise
inner world fantasy
and if you knew what i was projecting
you would be surprised maybe upset even disgusted
in that self world fantasy
those small moments
meaningless to man
i have transmogrified
into swooning and wooing
cooing like a love festival of pigeons
in my new order fantasy
you have left your wife and children
dead by the road side
in the fatal crash that killed
and left you unharmed
in my second order fantasy
i erased your recollections of love
and twee married life
we ran off to Bali to surf among
the relics of Gaugin and colonialism
in my tertiary fantasy
we lure your bag of a wife to a secret place
in the woods at the the back of the farm
where we used to ride and play
carefully to strip the moonlit grass and turf
as angels and owls cry
we dump her body down the old well shaft
like a wooden bell it falls into the cobwebed choir
where once morality sang its childlike songs
mimikcking good little christians all repressed
all in white a row as teeth
inanely smiling
unlike the savagery of the kid inside
its wonder and its lust
its lack of boundary
which i unlocked for you and i to share
if only in a dimension somewhere else
beyond your meek imagining
where phantom voices sing
dressed in white adrenalin
their liquid harmonies flow round my silent house
alone except for images of you
i crawl among the leafy papered walls
or spin upon my loom
of tasteless sixties bric a brac
drive pins in horoscopes
or pluck upon my stolen angels harp
and sing of cars and moonlit nights
......
PoemLetter to Brant Lyon ...
IN large format
i printed off your poem
my eyesight has GONE
i must say that i found your rhythmless
writing both selfless and thoroughly warming
full of homespun jocularity
and requisite of a knowledge of
GOD
and his hapless chums
companions in a way completely foreign to me
SO
i shredded it and put it in the boiler
that sort of water warming poetry
my tropical fish
BY HIS
or their fishly lying
coincidentaly named millhouse ,
willson, wallcur, and brownfin
also applauded your
EFFORT
in keeping them in temperate climes
they so enjoy a hot bath
their tiny bowl atop the well tempered
STOVE
and leaping as they did
THE LEAPING FISHES
leapt cheerily out of the water
NEVER is an uncertain word in a certain world
but never have
THEY
leapt so fishfully
though this turned out to be more likely due
to the alcohol from the half empty bottle of vodka I
or the god of happy fish
DID
lob in there last night
and when i was again
AWAKE
and how i awoke when i awoke
to find myself
strewed across the kitchen table
with a
FORKED
fork mark on me cheek
AND
willow pattern reverse-emblazoned cross my forehead
i noticed that they were all
DEAD
the fishes dead
everyone of them
no matter as your poem became a saviour once again
in boiling up some more water
water water water and with a little
extra advertising literature there was enough
heat to do some toast on the griddle
boiled pickle fish sandwich now renamed Poem sandwich
is very tasty
and i can thoroughly recommend it
....
2nd poem to plagiarise
salt kiss of the waves
down upon a sunlit sea
my spirit caves
where the rainbows play with sprats
blue on the breast and skipping
tasted of desire
and perished twice
a world ending in that rainbow fire
and as the green wood
cracked its random drum
the fishes bodies sang
their charred and hissing song
of vengefull wrath
"I only wish a hat of lightened tone
and a laurel of bright flowered lime
to swim the many seas
and know their seven tasting brine
to be the monstrous bones
laid upon titanic oceans floor
but most .. to bite a man
and live to bite him more"
Brant Lyon appears courtesy of
Uphook Press" ,
and is a performing contributor at
Hydrogen Jukebox"
and to suggest that he had plagiarised any of the material contained herein would probably be untrue
despite the ideas and language possibly being within his grasp .. [lawsuit pending]