thango

An Example of Bare Horse Riding

14 Jun 08 09:22:43 GMT



Evangel, yours the book has a saddle smell quality
mine yet is to be given, maybe I’ll buy it first,
crossing bridges or going through walls helps?

Someones spirit lit change; in your name after death.

Boreal, to elements whisks the paw of tenderness
your nails in my back leave a strange poison – Loner!
pastures for your lips now , how come?

Our choices are blind visuals that give a worthful life.

Peruse we are in detail and as close as an aging breath
can divide the bedroom or all space that is the next door
for a good reason urges plunder into invisible distances?

Their voices unheard today let me cut open your nightdress.

Thank you - my flower, oh! Sooo prepared...

Thourn Whaul -- June 2008

Rejections

13 Mar 08 10:20:16 GMT


Are there many or were they avoided up to a notch
where the rite or rhythm takes us into corner still comfortable
where the visuals place us into what we want
where we don’t get but give birth only to change
some passage, the reward on our family wall
but this one has a noticeable spot of mold after the last,
really maybe only friend has died.

Was it your partner? Your wife of ten children or
the ones facial expression when stale
still accomplishes a pleasant evening
like the every weekend social
and the very all dear
who wouldn’t pull apart of tooth
that much as time can,
if not in check.

Only a moth open
Loves
As it sees,
Feels
Why?

Maybe to believe there is something else
that what we hold in tears, as life feeds.

Thourn Whaul '080313TW' rev: 080429

Lanius Collurio

11 Mar 08 12:08:59 GMT


Impaled on the fence a lizard, only its tail for you 
is already in your stomach,
my tea is cooling with a biscuit soggy in the flask on the bench

earlier my sweet companion slipped in the stream nearby
and her hair is so beautiful when wet, 
we watch you 
  and noticed a boat that is not ours on the sea.

In it, you greet us again, dropped a mouse
Is it ‘cause we carried back,
your tiny 
fallen chick from the nest?

The flight my darling with no answer,
it took you away with the winds
clouds that build only yearn, the boat has your hairy gift
but only as a short feast and your  courtesy returned;
understood beside all the next to me 
 better part, her sudden
sea sickness.

Thourn Whaul 11/03/2008

Mortum my Gum Accroides?

03 Mar 08 09:42:00 GMT

(saying good-bye to a always pretending but dead friend)


I've burned it to welcome Christmas
them, plucked have oils scented stronger than mint 
as vapor when crushed in the palms,

Is it yours though - that hand?
That had the privilege
like the same ergodicity - you have
that always leaves you silent when crucial,

touching,
some sort of
stone masonry you've build
always in your mind

It isn't yours, but glad -
I am that neither; nor your neck now
on a rope will be swinging under my apple tree,

Please at least die in dignity; since 
you had that rather; than have to patch desires
and do turn the bundle of strings knot 
the right way,

so it will snap your cat neck fast!

---

Dimitrie is back again,
you ignoring all said - unfelt
it isn't difficult anymore,
you two being together again
as your letter states, almost notes
Yes! It was very easy.

Dimitrie left his socks
after the stream and place
you two barefoot tiptoeing
through my garden, 
o how beautiful...

Thourn Whaul, March'08 (less we forget)

Mortum my Gum Accroides?

Some poetry revisions only...

01 Mar 08 05:16:07 GMT

Minute Minuartia
You Left me Alone
Untitled unless...

Cascade of Red Tickets

25 Jan 08 10:47:53 GMT


One is folding
the rest counts four with it

The machine that it came from
it didn't half it lying on the desk

Each has "one" and they resemble a train
autistic is only the place on which they're spend.

Thourn Whaul 25/01/2008

Boxing Day 2007

28 Dec 07 08:46:49 GMT


You love, from afar
today I walked to the lotus
it is in bloom and no one around
its leaves played with the lakes
small waves and the wind
but the stem stayed undisturbed,
it is my favorite place.

You, that gracious
would fill more with grander
the words you would have
the thoughts with such caress
and as the grand flower opens
there in front of us we would see
that alone it isn’t,

 never was 
.

Thourn Whaul

TW-boxing_glove_nb_two.jpg

And it happened, it was wonderful:

Rousanoú Meteora

13 Nov 07 08:23:56 GMT

There were times
that the sparrows would disappear
the hate and disaprovement
would chew weeks and beads,
peas crushing dry one's scull
leftover teeth bits

Behind all bad that goes on
It is indeed behind
how not to disagree?

There, a plunge
spiraling down from the
Meteora rock house
the pool isn't a glass
the landing dive
dip into your eyes.

There are also times
the dark hooded priest
white bearded, black cloth
and book covered in gold script
would take a seat
on an unmarked grave
pull out a tiny little glass bottle
drink out the clear spirit in one go

And say, "See me, don't blame me
and don't you ever talk to me again!"

He would leave,
but two birds would spring
out nearby high grass
swallows, their destination - roof,

And no falcon or eagle
would notice them,
placing down
their first branches.

Thourn Whaul 11/'07

The Flock Trip

09 Nov 07 22:44:10 GMT

The flock has landed
with no seed ever thrown.
On a field green and mended.
Full in pain, a new keeper has grown.

People want times to be dear.
No problem being a bit queer.
Earth in shocking state.
Past the river of blood, 2 and 8 will mate.
(I am loosing inspiration, should I shutdown?)

Cages clean as never seen.
From all, only two saw eye to eye.

Thourn Whaul '02

The Reason I Did It

03 Nov 07 20:52:11 GMT

Chafed and bewildered a reach finally found
this year's gown and hairs falling in the fitting room
it is a ritual each year and the wearable is not
just something picked out of thin air in design.

Sometimes satin, at others - and on that day in the year
no store would have the flawless hatched moron fine
silk that you are after on a whole Saturday alone.

Like a new pet or stray it does eventual arrive
you lie in it and think of me and my last nonsense,
the way the young neighbour asked you for sex
while trying to borrow a spanner to close her water pipe.

Youth teases, explores each pore but stops
when door opened pronounces your stylish manor
heavy as the first wig and both, thick as the first lipstick.

You think of me, and the way I rejected meeting her
that beautiful blond, with yet a cup empty of regrets
a smile bolted shutdown feelings and excited blush
a knock and thoughts about nothing moments before.

Wake happy, at least this once.

Thourn Whaul

About Love

13 Jul 08 10:36:21 GMT


Love uttered too much
is it reason we hutch
swear all earthly faults
the foot as tooth
only gavage body kind,
but let me roll in the malts.

End, it spoke and despised
that measures are too spiced
the truth singing out
every play is a crane
flying over the advised.

Owning it only can jester
but having it, is it a body gesture?

Thourn Whaul July '08

Untitled unless...

24 Feb 08 02:51:37 GMT


You didn’t expect it
that thunder from a white guy echoes

Why would I look twice?
If last time you turned the back to me.

Let me make it possible babe!
There are always things as beautiful as us.

Forgive me, being in doubt that time and score will pass.

Thourn Whaul feb'2008

You Left me Alone

16 Feb 08 06:17:48 GMT


You say my cross is not straight,
rather an x-ray into the shiny boots you bought
on a Valentine’s day, their smell are in me full, with you on the bed
you’ve let me shine them, polish in this strange but pleasant passion you found me in.

Your legs move and body wants more - I can tell
that you yearn me to acknowledge and dive in
as expected between branches that are so on offer.

Me? I am sad but not in mood to let go,
of the little that is to say about myself, except to give you love




me and my seeds can only out whisper all consequence,
me and my poverty 
burdens you with some uncontrolled mistake - I can tell.

Dear friend and lover, isn’t it enough that I’ve let go,
maybe it is enough; and you decided to leave and go away,
but only after seeing my gardens flower that indeed has stayed,
did you know, how it reminds me so much on you after revision?

Thourn Whaul '08

Kisses

09 Jan 08 12:28:06 GMT

Kisses


They from me, they from you
our dreams fulfill,
Reality turned blue

WOHIN WAGNER GEHÖRT

Auch jetzt noch ist Frankreich der Sitz der geistigsten und raffiniertesten Kultur Europas und die hohe Schule des Geschmacks: aber man muß dies "Frankreich des Geschmacks" zu finden wissen. Die Norddeutsche Zeitung zum Beispiel, oder wer in ihr sein Mundstück hat, sieht in den Franzosen "Barbaren", - ich für meine Person suche den schwarzen Erdteil, wo man "die Sklaven" befreien sollte, in der Nähe der Norddeutschen ... -- Nietzsche


...
Till the little ones, weary,
No more can be merry:
The sun does descend,
And our sports have an end.
Round the laps of their mothers
Many sisters and brothers,
Like birds in their nest,
Are ready for rest,
And sport no more seen
On the darkening green. -- 
from The Echoing Green - William Blake

Castrato Tricks

09 Nov 07 21:44:00 GMT

Castrato Tricks

Why gurggling names, long
each morning, infront of the sink
spits out enemies?

Because it's a book
pillow remembering leafs
exams failing you!

You don't want amour,
You don't want to be studied
You want cushions!

Light up a candle
I also, will do so and watch
moths arrive pregnant.

I'll pin one for you
send it wrapped in yellow
it will never rot.

I'll hold one for you
for days between hands, frozen
you've said you'll visit.

Thourn Whaul

02/2005

Washing Black

You dreamed 'bout rescue
but chained there you are stunning
Unused and yearning
to give away your body
stripped leaving trail

Red Turned

First time red ready
your calm posture perfection
Me undeserving
Will take only vail
cherished memory of you

Thourn Whaul '05

Trinity

27 Sep 07 14:00:13 GMT

There are no peatels to the this shrine
only branches brown and thin
the closer you are to the destination
the thiker and harder it gets to walk.

You are tempted to grab, clear the way
but it has been years and neglect collects
each strength, each move, each motion
the thiker and harder it gets to continue.

The altar turns to be a hundered meter cliff
health collects still each creavacy to grab
climb as you got so far and for fun sake
the thiker and harder it gets to reach God.

If you get there, don't bring gifts.
Don't bring mirros, mirracles are unbreakable.

Thourn Whaul '07

Dolores Waltzes

25 Sep 07 11:46:22 GMT

Cheerful it builds and dreams start to flow
this innocent sound and the whole atmosphere
as it takes you into trance, my well felt pleasure the same.

You don't hear it often, maybe once and than as switching
music from time to time can only bring, why do I only switch?
You don't invite to stay now, this old jacket worth - over a stool.

Happy are our next days, the composition fades
how can I forget you then if this I had
hurt? Believe me, there is no regret left behind in smoke.

Thourn Whaul

Curriculum of Pussy

07 Sep 07 06:53:14 GMT

-I-

The liberal in the cage
drunk shouts -> Baaaaaanker!
your rabbit hole
is grasping at hare
unspectacular not to disappear
how ever its scratches
wiggle out
try like a lizard
to loose his ears as
if it was only a tail.

You said you remember my cinnamon?
But can I answer for you, each drip
isn't only sweet, it escapes
under knife, my sharpening stones
are your gliding hand.

-II-

The cat a fiddler in the cloud?
People of David protect the so bare all spectacled
and you like me
need petrol for your engines,

Eclipses don't end for me; however
shut me down but not in contradiction

Make it a salivating extravaganza
counting steps over grasses
that don't make you red dirty
in a wrong foot position or
move covering now a pristine
white tennis shoe.

Why am I the wrong step you see
you can wash once you get home,
yet - for some reason you don't do it.

The pussy is not happy and
the lord knows but dogs have taken the bait
hunting home, they don't mind that there is a horse left
unsaddled
in a paddock that changes
like the universe.

Greet me dove, also
love me with your cry
black and white cockatoo

Your spirit wakes memories,
makes me immune to the lesser & imminent
the stamp on a government piece of paper.

Oils? I cook my food in them.
Am I alone 'cause of this hypocrisy
or 'cause of worth that words can't combine
or a pussy can't ovulate into golden and fine.

Thourn Whaul '07

Abstracts in a Summer (2006)

01 Dec 06 17:28:34 GMT

       -I- (the painting in the painting)

Large bag and towel
just as I like
decided to walk down
with nothing but a cup,
we laugh

       -II- (the painting)

Large sword to shoot held
finger on blade next to handle
a large nose only
covers hidden bits
nudes one nose shaped
and the only face has
uneven holes for eyes
a fine blade a perfect balance

      -III- (background)

Large rooms echo
fly spray
balconies full with doves
drying air and smoke
   airs from outside
and beside as well
all is gentle

        -IV- (next to the sig.)

Large is the small world
left to explore
it was like that once
yet it stayed rediscovered
seeking cover

Thourn Whaul '06

Impressions From a Night Out

18 Nov 06 12:24:02 GMT

Decisions mar your crest
equid ridden with equilibrium,
diving out and bathing
again in pairs, charming ones,
but the water bearer shies
appears skirted to be blind
but is not, stalks what he sees
even what he loses
he will still discover,
place, a new corner or
coroner.

Also the devils polyglot shows
his ugly head again,
Lice bite you
but you only just, managed
to open your eyes,

take another victim
ten years later
from the same bar.

The angel suffers
don’t you know?

But is as happy alone,
as seeing you
having a fantastic time.

And that coat you find confined,
he needs you as much as you need him.

Thourn Whaul

2006-11-18

The Day When the Muse Appeared

09 Nov 06 15:37:53 GMT

Pummels, shock and turn elevates the dust
throws and thrust of chisel, power hammer,
we never were apart and dealt with what we must
stone against your breast layers in my clast.

We both stand looking at each other,
lines opaque bassets under our heavens light
but one of us doesn't move, stays same - farther
hands are numbing in brighter tired sight.

There is always picking, cleaning after to do
end of day never a routine just there - next,
today painted red mixed with some blue
people notice as it tends perplexed.

They ask is she finished or something new?
The reply is no, "she is here! Get a clue."

Thourn Whaul

link

The Bird as Clock (contains pop ripoff videos - which in turn took from tick-tock poetry)

08 Nov 06 16:37:06 GMT

Sea sick, and
some candle wax at dinner time,
Love sick, or
the presence makes fine tapestry.

Something is inside,
grasping heart
pulling colon,

making all worthwhile
to operate,
strokes and all strings
the elements to life
for a smile and flatter
of your wings,
as it sings, sinks

into sweet dreams
the was or would,

the is and should.

Thourn Whaul

19/06/06

Here, here, a Fuck Off! To Madonna! Alice and Gwen!

Hope you find all your delight,

that is your gold but silver haired Swen.

Thourn Whaul

She Want Show Up On Our First Date

07 Nov 06 16:46:58 GMT

Fear a Quasimodo brilliance
saying no, you would love
please, and lock keys
question every look
overturn for phone numbers
each book - motion that is,
to some mistaken
mystic
garambulla graticule

To linger with us
each thorn of past,
from the fruit
we take and throw
into someone's river,
it is our weapon, bloody
with our words, hate and heat,
you can bloom under me - if not with me
Scream! In conception as if giving birth.

You would appear
but you would also want,
that much
to disappear -
as well,

pride and juiced from spine to mouth,
the kisses last, we sleep our dreams.

Thourn Whaul
25/09/06

link

Plundered Finding her in Skirt and Nothing Underneath

05 Nov 06 02:20:11 GMT

Carpets are a fat man
ask all the Asian parlors,
the dollars always rolled,
tobacco like furnishing, everything
even some property way out in Calcutta.

My head made it on a wall well spread,
dreams build David for her to steal
one night, when the hound is liquored in tongue.

She did, sawed it of with a single blow of baton.
Swallows and dives latter a - knock, knock
Her eyes were watery, crying
"What took you so long"?

I lifted the head from the wall of her house,
by a fast poke to the throat, and out came a scroll.

"What took me is knowing, you will not find the message for you"

It was their; first and only fight.

Thourn Whaul

21/08/06

Now Here is Something

05 Nov 06 02:13:16 GMT

If winter colds ever knew
The fire the strength you showed
that much in me as in you,

Every cry would bell,
take us to the side, to
the moon we don't know.

I could tell stories,
you would answer them,
that easy and just as smitten,

Next to a nothing you would never think
neither resemble in your best dreams
turning into ours; and theirs all the glow,
but the night without, if I could only fill
like the next day and you resting at the sill,
window over the promenade, a saint day silence,
a hair lock? As the only one, will be taken into grave.

From there you would have risen to say no, to all this,
it took a while and moments after all unlived,
we observe each other now, both well relived and found.

And we could say, we never made - real love.

Thourn Whaul

05/08/06