Arlecchino Malbenvolio / Small Press / Collections / Untitled
This version is © copyright 2002 j. griogair bell, all rights reserved.
All prose and originals are © copyright 1990 j. griogair bell.
All rights reserved. No part of this book nor of individual works may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, in use or yet to be invented, without permission in writing from the author.
thanks to CP.
est quaedam flere voluptas - ovid
'illiterative and asinine malaprops'
an untitled collection of poetry
restless night
talking to myself again
patchwork dreams
varied pictures
tossing and turning
fading in and out
I lose touch which
dream is dream
imaginary spiders crawl
across the hairs of my leg
I might as well get up
Sleepless night
talking to myself again
did I speak out loud?
Talking to myself
as if I had anything to say
2:30 in the morning
Staring
Thru the cups and glasses
books piled
Over pages
of Scribbles
Distorted
frozen liquid bowls
and whispering leaves
Red table cloth
erupted
Plastic musicians
Prisons
paper dreams
and ink wounds
Eyes held
open
Visions in Scarlet
letters
acid salt
in my eyes
stung
with invention
to the lines
of division
Scribbled vision
returned by throat cut
blade
Slipped thru
a vision in
grey and fat dripping memory
Broken dreams
traded away
to lost advice
and wasted
wished vice
and silenced
breath
Breathing broken
wisps of
Imagination
Saturated in
Stagnated
Scholar's mistresses
lie in my bed
of rosebuds
bleeding fresh
wounds
leaving black
smears of empty
lives left to
haunt thru
despised scribbles
forgotten ties
to familiar friends
forgotten faces
over empty places
grinning thru
Scribbled dreaming
denial
and sucking
demanding ghosts
stuck in the
machine of
the body
holding tight
the bonds
of sight
Despite deaf
paper leaves
that grow
only now in
the solid cinder
of grey
memory denied
the light
to frame in
the window
of the worn
soul
Tatters & Rags
ripped and
in tourniquet
bands to tie
arms afraid
of freedom
in fear of
blindness
behind walls
and of constructed
scribbling
memory
protecting
the pain from
the fear of
release
bonding the
blind to the
blinding
flame of
faces in the
mirror
fighting versus
bars
of prison walls
left to crawl thru
cracks
of cinder
blocks of
pictures of
black subjects
captured
flashes
burning
holding
only
a page
of a memory
not worth saying
and lost to time
spent
words of unspoken
memory
silence
Early morning boredom
old music
old memories
fruit juice
and fading truth
grey sky curtain
drawn
over the pale wriggling worms
in sleeping bags and coats
the maggots under the bark
downtown forest
early morning boredom
Wheat germ shampoo
a pile of tapes
and a youth hostel handbook
Silk amino acids
raspberry apple
and the smell of
jaundiced carpet
moldering under my feet
toenails too long
white sock fashion nightmare
thin leg varicose vein
too young
cut off jeans
black T
black ink pen
yellow paper
yellow
a sick happy yellow
spiral staircase of the maggot eaten
rime rim around the unconscious illusion
spinning lightening around the concrete and
coughing up blood from the bowels of the
method inspiration
a cup
no contents
a pen
a book
and paper
scattered paper
a room
crowded alienation
alone together
together
a room
no contents
come together
flea
market art
crawls
with
the memory
of
cockroaches
this army jacket
is
alive with
the memory
of my lover
my lost
lover
my
room
shudders
with
the memory
her silent
rhythm
I hear her
absent
music
played thru
my
slowly
beating
heart
dancing alone
this
really
sucks
the pattern
of repayment
cycling
loving to be loved
in the
whirlpool of
the unfulfilled
dark whisper
a barrier to one
is the desire for another
the desire is the
dark whisper of
the slide to oblivion
black sight, black heart
black coffee in the morning
(but I don't drink coffee)
to warm the waking dream
the line of tension makes puppets of us all
a living breathing beating dilemma
in the shadow across the room
where I lay cutting out my lungs
gagging on a rusted twisted self-image
the blending lines meet
the vanishing point
the event horizon
the birth of the universal commitment
are the stick pins in my voodoo
shivering doll that I keep in the mirror
memories of a lost disguise
I always knew what I was, but I always knew
that I really wasn't
he realizes he is no longer the center of the universe
his thumb falls from his mouth
"you can never go home"
the compass has no direction for the place I must
go
I take a deep breath and I am floating
even desire is a barrier to the whispered
reminder of my own failing voodoo doll
frantic
cloverleaf calm
over-leaf of
crisscross
asphalt cross
across
the city divides
pointless
late night wandering
in the city of the lost
the city of the condemned
with hours until the hour
of the houris' return
horus eye peering over my shoulder
checking the speedometer again
(beautiful to behold
yet fearsome to face))
the quilted weave
the skein
the skor
that high priced whore
has it in for me
ah, you're back, bitch
welcome home
I have achieved my last chakra in your arms
as my vision leaves the dark remainder
I hear you laughing
rotten teeth jowls
jabbering
drooling is a character flaw you slut
i still feel her ghost in my mind
forgotten fingers twist rotted
bloated remains around my body
fondling violent parts
rip cuts thru cat's cradle
remains of skin hang thin limply
wetly from the fingertips of
the forgotten hand
leaves marquis welts and stinging pain
on my flesh the fingerpaint bruise
handprint stigmata nail polish
the forgotten arm
holds me deep down in smothering
embrace holds my lost breath between
humid sheets covers fucking lies
the forgotten legs
bend driving nails up that tease my
testicles gentle then violent
kicking down the dead doors of my
forgotten pleasure
developing the dilemma
forgotten vs. what I desire
vs. what i desire to forget
the forgotten mouth
delivers such silken torture
a tickling tongue tiny biting
her suicide smell fills my nostrils
her forgotten smell
my lips kiss her to remember
my demands dig treasure from the
pit filled with my poisoned pleasure
she pounds and she rubs
against my pelvis reminding
she reminds me of the pleasure
making me forget the pain or
like a masochist
partially desiring again
weighted down
my eyelids only half open
the blue pencil in my hand
is a plastic dildo for the
prick of my black bic pen
the graphite sometimes squeaks against the paper
as a protest
my black pen glides across the page
a thick black illusion of permanence
after all it is the illusion of permanence that I'm after
the delusion rides well on the parade car of my desire
to be the center
of attention
of love
of lust
of worship
ah, to save the world ...
... my first miracle of protection
is to save the world
from me
I declare myself king
but don't tell anyone
When daily survival becomes
the amusement of the day
even an empty belly or
a bodily disease becomes
a well wished for diversion
like a contemptible but
predictable friend
In a city of proud erections
I am but an impotent diseased landfill
bubbling over with the methane of
confusion and angst
the biodegradable mass of my memory
and my mistakes
undiminished by time
as a festering wound
under the soil of the fill
like a newspaper still readable
having notheless been buried
buried under layers of broken lost
and best forgotten delusion
boulder rubble building
red brick of hidden body murdered
yellow stained chain smoking halls
with locks for buttons that venus fly trap
elevator awaits
to take the unwary shower in open empty space
not a single beautiful face
not even mine
broken body young barely touched
too soon to have sinned much
more than in fragmentary
architectural dreams
and stress related fractures
of design
tucked away in this closet of a room
I am the skeleton
I am no longer the body
I am the disease
I am the cancer of unrest laying
in the cyst of anger
canker of mind and of self
eating away at the body
leprosy of self-awareness eating
away my fingers my toes my eyes
just
another late night conversation with the moon
late night language lessons
lingua pax vobiscum
pax oppression
lingua lunae
the taste of cold silver moonbeams
between my teeth
clenched
in a fist of defiance
legion religion of bloodsport lust
the wild heat
hunt
reflecting moonbeams on the surface
of the argument
transparent mirage of self-controlling
determinism
Just
another late night celebration of the moon
kelp twisted
wicked witch
knotted thin bone hand
thin fingered death
spread outreaching
snare net feeding
rotten miasma
all hollow
even
core
dark dream reaching
orgasmic buttfuck fear
anal lusting
rustling leaves
shadow widow's son
reaching
dried saliva cunt
pouting pumping fucking
hiding behind
anal lusting
rustling leaves
dead birch dried snatch
slash bash
fuck-fest
pounding pus
puking piss
down the black
anal abyss
rustling leaves
hiding in the dark
late night erotic shit
and flies
flickering tongue of the fatman
the whole world of hatred
damned
environmental
burnout
ashtray filled
bedroom
mudcaked tile filled mildew
rot decay
teeth rot
miasma
flickering hands of the greedy
prostrate
pollution filled
wormed wooden
web
torn
rusted
broken
lies
flickering eyes of the guilty
neon necropolis
in fisty feisty fornication
under the watchful eyes
of the flies
late night erotic shit
on the flickering tongue of the deadman
the poltergeist of my embarrassment vanishes
and i am immobilized
and my fantasies vanish in the swirling haze
of my ejaculation
my fading fantasies about what might have been
now swirling in the cup
mixing with the caramel coloured softdrink my children are polluted
like the sewage in my heart
i throw it away
dropping it down in the trash
unbalanced the cup overturns spilling my future
worm-eaten by my past
the hot metallic nail of my bile
is driven up through my mouth
by the well-oiled hammer of my guilt and loathing
for the man i have become
the vomit of my mistakes splatters into the trash
widening the stain of my fluids
the variety of my disgust mixed with my lust an inseparable
combination of self-hate
as i breathe the acidic, acrid air of my sewage
my fantasies return
this time in a psychedelic parade my semen vomits me
and i fall a bloody heap
as my unreal vision fades I extend my hand towards
the soup from my body
my vision
as i smear my cheeks the acid is like needles in my eyelids
water wells up in my eyes
tears fall on my cheeks a natural cross-hatching
across my soul
my tears continue to fall as i fall from the window ledge