Bone Orchard Poetry: Reuben Woolley

Bone Orchard Poetry: Reuben Woolley: re(:/-) birth if only there were some last reckoning , a slashed throat , a full blood offering                         we

the elemental sequence

elemental games

we take this body , this
passive solid &
change . we play
with fluids , piss
and plasma pump . we
breathe & rise , generate
sparks . 're just brief
dots in energy
dark expansion
until the dark
implodes

re-play

elemental dystrophy

these bones need blood
to move . all those failed
sacrifices lacked
breath , were so
obvious . you
don't slit throats , eat
hearts to fly
on sharp flames

you fuck . you flourish

elemental dependencies

after searching so long
for fire , bringing
flame , he found
you can't let go
of boredom , the next
breath & spurt of blood
a liver is essential
& death is forever

let's dance

elemental prison

restricted
by bone , shaped
by blood
breathing makes you
delicate . it's in
your eyes I see
the rarities , the flecks
of gold . they do not
escape . they argue
till the sun darkens
& the bones lie down

elemental unbalance

no rain
these bones 're dry
& hollow . shake 'em
for luck , shake 'em
for blood . ain't no
glory in this
land . fires
on the mountain . hot
winds through parched
valleys . no cum
no more . no sweet juice
for life . only welding
plates for automatons

they don't breathe

elemental harvest

collections of bones
give structure to blood . flesh
is an aggregate . no constant
factor & breathing
brings sparks like
fingers in sockets , lightning
in dead bodies . will this
monster obey ? or will they come
with bell & candle
sword & sickle
to make a final harvest

a final burning

elemental times

all these crowded lines
of time , withered
& diminished
at each old moon . this
unglorious scree of pagan
flights looking
for a curse . this
de-constructed image

empty . limping away
false angler , bastard
king , certain members
less . I shall be nothing
in the aether . shall not
know you

it goes . it comes

elemental ocean

listening to waves
whisper of whales
& stigmata of squid . words
pour down in time . trees
bend in deep green , hear
tales which flow
in sand

here
in every drop
of silent matter , these words
don't choose . they
swim in fire
burn myths

the ocean sings

elemental poet

words fall
on dry earth . blood
will shape them . breath
will voice them
bring fire
let them burn
into sight

have meaning

elemental geography

this is a molecular
agreement , a temporary
positioning for future
moves . we watch 
for tsunamis , wait
for flame

elemental growth

is no god here . we
are not heathen
& heart is just
a cell construct pumping
blood for chemical exchange
I do not know
what a soul is , have
not measured it , but
somewhere
there is a spark
electricity

Ancient Heart Magazine: mis-fit

Ancient Heart Magazine: mis-fit: are times of interest , for new decisions , waking to different views . I have no rules & cannot fit shall not sign for safety & eac...

Bone Orchard Poetry: Christine Murray

Bone Orchard Poetry: Christine Murray: #1 gold-bodied a beetle dives into muck and dirt a silica of glitter on his porch, his wing. there is no evidence of his home...



Brilliant work from Christine!

http://www.paraphiliamagazine.com/oneirosbooks/the-king-is-dead/

the king is dead arrived

Introduction by Chris Murray:
http://boneorchardpoetry.blogspot.com/2014/07/the-introduction-by-christine-murray-to_15.html?spref=fb

Preview poems:
http://boneorchardpoetry.blogspot.com/2014/07/a-preview-of-reuben-woolleys-king-is.html?spref=fb

And a review by David McLean:
http://mourningabortion.blogspot.se/2014/07/reuben-woolley-king-is-dead.html

You can get it from:
http://www.paraphiliamagazine.com/oneirosbooks/the-king-is-dead/

Or you can message me on Facebook or Google+ or send me an email and get a signed copy from me.

My book, the king is dead, preview poem

orchard

I grow arms
& legs . a face
will appear & I
shall learn speech

if bleeding is needed
I'll open
the veins , bead
this orchard red
it will grow bones

                         this
is my graveyard . 'm
behind these stones
singing
with new lips . I grow
skin for these rites , coming
in profusion , renewing
dead earth


buy from:
http://www.paraphiliamagazine.com/oneirosbooks/the-king-is-dead/

AUTOEROTIC ELEGIES: Reuben Woolley - "the king is dead"

AUTOEROTIC ELEGIES: Reuben Woolley - "the king is dead"

Bone Orchard Poetry: A Preview of Reuben Woolley's 'the king is dead' (...

Bone Orchard Poetry: A Preview of Reuben Woolley's 'the king is dead' (...: mountain poem writing on the edge . an awe full balancing , each word tight . no room for whims . no fears of fa...

My book - the king is dead

My book - the king is dead - published by Oneiros books

See also the Facebook page

http://www.paraphiliamagazine.com/oneirosbooks/the-king-is-dead

More poems published

http://www.boneorchardpoetry.blogspot.ie/

http://www.boneorchardpoetry.blogspot.ie/

A most excellent place.

Bone Orchard Poetry: Reuben Woolley

Bone Orchard Poetry: Reuben Woolley: echometry there is distance between me and me I can't see my shadow the echo stares back silent unblinking I don't measure...

Bone Orchard Poetry: Reuben Woolley

Bone Orchard Poetry: Reuben Woolley: two no more straitjackets   my head is overloaded and i can’t understand what they say it’s all tripos and trappers that...

places - collaboration with Sonja Benskin Mesher