Introducing
Keith Woodhouse
Cassandra
Needle thin, silvikin, silver slithers,
Born with a Gemini moon and a silver spoon,
Turtle neck, tortoise neck, Taurus neck,
The words of a dead man ratified in the living.
Biblical faces fading into spaces,
Different races in localised places,
Pencils, stencils and utensils,
Obstetrics to cure all your ills.
Pink roses popping out my eyes,
Words wind up my head with lies,
Purple streaked with yellow skies,
My love she lays down my head with sighs.
Mental Hospital
Slamming doors, huge thumping sounds;
Prison officers standing all around
Medication that fucks the psyche,
Tracksuit bottoms by Adidas or Nike.
Day time television blaring out,
Psychosis is the removal of all self-doubt,
Global telepathy in our heads,
Psychic sleeping in our beds.
I sent a poem to a magazine
I take my Depakote and Thorazine
Permanent cigarette and cup of tea
Shaving mirror reflecting me.
What are those mansions of the mind?
What sort of people do we find?
Within these walls, sequestered away,
No ones going home today.
Threatened by high security,
Medicated mental purity,
The purity of raw violence,
How about some space and silence?
Moonfelt
There are no reasons, no names and no days,
We are gone and spent in all our ways,
The trees breathe language into my head,
When the work days work are said,
Rose flowers the mortal petals of longing,
I lose all sense of having been or ever belonging,
The songs I sing are all the songs of songing,
The empty floods of language flow,
On futile bushes the words do grow,
The moon laughs in the bath,
The sun screams in naked wrath,
A poet of sorts, self-taught,
Wrangling, twisted, demented, wraught,
To create my fate before its too late,
Because I know that time wont wait.
Pisces Moon
In the alacritous break of a seconds storm
Inclement exact and quicksilver vibrant
Taught the errant lands of desert norms
In the corrective fluid I bend you down.
Travelling atoms molecular-systematic vibration
All is cool and clear as water
Brute-stubborn wheeze dropping laugh
Tortuous paths tantamount to mountains.
My foxglove day of raging hemispheres
Thoughts of all sorts travelling and piercing
In the woning of the goning the hungry evil harvest falls
Best sunk the puddle drink in memory.
Machiavellian scraped skies bathing in the randy sun
In the haunting void my calibre runs
Little mercury spirits bring me Venusian food products
The calm quickly waxen ducts.
Profile
We are sexual, telepathic, word orientated goofs,
We are nebulous, necromantic, prehensile,
We are roaming, reared and romantic,
We are benign, bovine and bizarre,
Our residencies are eclectic,
Places, like time, happen anywhere.
We have free will yet constantly fight our own destiny,
And cannot subjugate matter over fidelity,
We are born to remember ourselves,
Holding statue in the face of volition,
The road is fraught with danger,
We are supernuminaries on the stage of the world theatre,
Human life is both precious and dispensable,
The societies that have occurred are meretricious,
Tribal chaos veneered by bouncing colour,
Adult schizomania rages, civilisations final stages,
We are lumpen incarnate, mind-altered,
The world is a representation of our complexities,
By computer programmed serendipity,
And we are myriad, scattered, running,
Peopled by a thousand continents,
Jolly on the hop, a multi-faceted being.
Vision
The night was over
And the sea curds crackled
And bent,
crisply, in the deadening rays
Of morning,
As she sank into the bank
Of the sand speckled
Tulip blossom
And angry
Red spangled pupil sun.
The flat marram pools
spoke lizards
To the turkey sitting on an egg yolk.
Country chunk animals
Jumping,
Sheep hopping over styles
And farm-captained land
Grand and handsome
In the green wheat field
Sun shaken fairy-tale,
Magic castle,
Dancing,
Peopled and happening.
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