A.Fox looking at a fox by A FOX

 

MY PAINTINGS AND PHOTOS ARE VERY ABSTRACT AS I CANT CONJURE AN IMAGE IN MY HEAD. HOPE THIS AND BOOK HELPS, WANT TO HELP DISABLED AND APHANTASTIC STRANGE FISH OUT THERE.

Stroke, aphasia

Aphantasia, sepsis

Alive and kicking

Aphantasia-

no minds eye darkness within

dark Aphantastic

 

A FLOW STATE


Browsing poetry archive, I’m out on a limb, a paralyzed one.
I don’t even have a voice for my Verse if that’s what you call it.
I cant find my voice among the verses. Will you gift to me your voice so I can Lilt a rhyming song and not have a flat Hyphen-

ated broken word, without Rise and fall.


I cant even remember how my words Worked in you, all ego now
is egoless. I need a little bit of hope, for my words To pick me up
and warble a warbler’s birdsong, full-throated joy. Let my words
rise in you, to roll Them of your tongue like
goingInto a flow state, non-being


Realm of possibility.

 

PHOETRY

A WELL-DEFINED EXPRESSION

 

1.          Basho had nature

and seasons to walk, I cut

bedbound disability.

 2.          Of all the songs in

All the world this one rhythm’s up 

twice in one day.

 

 HALF-DOOR DAWN

 

At the half door dawn, from

Kavanagh’s ditch came a fox

Looking at A. Fox. Keats guided

Me with a magic hand of chance

and a negative capability.

 

Lowell and Stevens said ‘yet

Why not say what happened.

The theory of poetry is theory

Of life’. Raymond Carver caught

My breath and I caught his.

 James Simmons had Muckish 

Portmuck over his shoulder.

Michaux and Pessoa showed me

Living with feeling. To these great

Men like fathers, I homage. Loving

Them all the way back to the source.

 

Enrapture encapture me,

ESTIMATED TIME OF ARRIVAL

Meditate-E.T.A,

it-dem-ension, deep

Focus, brain fuel 

morpho-genetic

 A CULL-AGE OF WORDS

I’M NOT IN YOUR GANG

 

Are we going to put up

With U.S.A.U.K-RAIN

Double standards.

I haven’t voted in years 

and still, you make me 

feel dirty and corrupted.

You’re taking away my

Human rights I am not

A black op’s sabotage.

I am not in your gang,

My mother used to say

Honesty is the best policy. 

Leave my policy alone please, 

don’t be sleazy. I have standards 

you have none, we are letting

These people drag 

us through the dirt.

MICK-MUCK

For Michael

 

I served up a bowl

Of bile to my care-

Giver wheeze, rattle

Free cool, he said

as only a caregiver would.

 

My air waves hadn’t been

That free in twenty years.

No wonder I was turning

Muck to gold, I was carrying

Around that muck for 20-

 

Years. I wheezed words out

And rattled down my food

chocking everyday making

me sick. I told them for years

 that I couldn’t get it up, only

 

now am I on their script.

morpho-

genetic

FIRST AND LAST

 

My room smelt like

a Maternity ward

Infantile blues woke

up this morning with

dummy-tit trans-

parency bard-o.

 

Sucking up to no-one

but me to be woke up

with a childhood rattle-

beat rattling like death

in my throat.

VICE-

 

This is getting out of the big hands

Of 20:20, am I being hacked like Liz?

I have not a thing to hide, poetry like

Sunshine is free, I’ve got the infan-

Tile blues a wee man syndrome.

 

Nonchalantly I lie here bedbound like

A shadow of my former SELf self.

 

A lower case of being but being BIG

AND BOLD, my words will follow me

Under ground or vice-versa. Gripped

By the divided mind over matter.

 

This is all that matters, locked-in

@21:12.

 DONE PLAYING IN THE MUCK

 

The tree needs wind to grow just like

I need suffering to know, this is

A suffering hell-cell but suffering

gives me health, being well.

 

For twenty years I’ve been digging

Up the past, my memory is in the dirt

And I’m the last, to know.

 

Even then I don’t know if it’s true

No children, wife. Childhood to reboot

All I know is down in the roots, the wind

Is suffering humankind.

 

It twists and morphs into my mind, in-

fantile.

 MAINLINE DOUBLE DUNT

 

Its 16:16 and I’m on the double daunt

Again, born in 61’ and I am sixty-one

So said the covid flu jab nurse.

 

Double digits rule my life accidently

On purpose pomes flow like blood

Through my veins. Mainline home.