first they beat 'im
  then crushed 'im
  knocked his head  in

   after that it was uphill
            all the way down the darling staircase
  upway the tramway and knocking back   puffing
    the street car switching   
             a  fat man running



escaped the world
     and its crime a penchant for crying lying seeing bent shapes in every wood row
knocking leafs back to their preparing      flare
  f l  a  t t ened by the word breath 

    your lips escaped the world


prisoner of mirror


fo r the prisoner of distance

 your body gets used to it being alone
  and dying
   warped by sentiments you cant control
   the despairing feeling you'll never be alone again
haunted by geese ghosts and paynims
  but what matter these gabby garbs?

   and the field or the sky overcome with beauty
            and the prisoner


 for the prisoner has his own joy
   a city ever his own
  infinitely discovered

  and your absence is like a pen in his hand
   waiting for the word
   lips  yours 

            escaped into the world



My angel translators. My angelic transfigurations. As I . 

___________                                    ______________________________________


ok repost it again remand standing standing remanded

 like a prisoner remanded to trial a lover to chains and the holly bush
  or the crafting technique spilling its flute

   and the second hand guess the ever evading sonnet of this work in regress
   and the divisive nature of your soul
    this poem continues
              and you have deprived me of your love
               like a slave that's lost

  and having died for you i am no one

and if only prisoners spoke
   and P. B....ant was stupid  a gangster barren of love's burden
  so cheap to kill shots doing harm on others
no lover behaves like that
   there's no like  that
        no 'like' 'like'


remanded standing

 standing  as a miracle


 working like hours

working hours

days and then  night dishonours itself
flicking chains

rubbing whips

if fear were  a word  
 god's have no love

god who has  loved  your body
before time and eternity

  temerity to the dozen lover's like
    and the plague or the bubonic fever




  you walked centaur a horse reared into the sun

you disappear(ed)  between a  lover's face
  one who betrays me   ~


~ and


and does it stand as a miracle?
   one wonders
  at miracles working like flowers

  each hour
  working between
   elves and midgets lovers running away on buses
   sitting on their asses




~ and what

C.P..... and what were you doing in China? learning to write? to meditate to catch becomings on the lisp edge of a fly? or to remove being from becoming....

C.D. I went to China before I had my son.  Before having ason I saw that intensity was in the roundness of the earth. My son, who I imagined as a god in the old sense that  a god himself gives birth to a demideity.... O! I know you're going to say I am crazy! 

C.P. yes yes... what was that about being a god?

C.D. I speak in figures and fingers of speech that are practically intensities to the bearing of our  becoming.. with bodies how else can one be?

Well being is not becoming it's a   feeelllllllling!
what ho!

Women , sometimes understand this welll.......enuffffffffffffffffffffffffffff   ~ !    !!!!