tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54306302011-12-15T15:37:26.171+13:00Chaos & MatterThe poetry of Nicholas AlexanderNicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comBlogger431100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1134768079659886182005-12-17T10:17:00.000+13:002005-12-17T10:25:22.936+13:00Light hearted approachLift spirits up in their stirrupsPraise the law for making it possiblefor chickens and children aliketo walk over silences in the trencheswhere the fires and distant sourcesof smoke are fused with religiontarnish not the spine of the novelof life with scars of a notorietyout of your hands - his spirit was takenonce by the press and now spreadwings thinly in any mediumbox it Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com43tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1133594841389346812005-12-03T20:27:00.000+13:002005-12-03T20:27:21.390+13:00old woman sits and stares at the ceilingdust has now formed on the ridgesthat define the roomShe sits and stares for hoursand the wind settles her sensesas it picks up and falls withleaves in its mouthNicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1133594765343718482005-12-03T20:24:00.000+13:002005-12-03T20:26:05.353+13:00He dripped sealing wax over the envelope And sealed it with the thump of the stamp on itand sent it to his love with a kissonly to find her annoyed with the stickyred substance that alarmed her so she called the FBI but dialed the wrong number and got the IBF instead so her whole house was restored to its former glory and years of plasticsurgery kept her in rosesas unknown books flew in via the Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1124284518007142222005-08-18T01:04:00.000+12:002005-08-18T01:15:18.016+12:00HorizonesPeace left in a cantan led my a myre of groats, weasils und ferretswho led entourage of spectacular wit and sighing a whirlwind brought change as Peace leads through the mudthe silence of ease exchanges fright for lessa foul mouthed interchange between the remorsless and the devoutbelonged under the tablethe feet lay stilland quivered a littleas though tickledbut dying encased in old Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1123270887885045482005-08-06T07:34:00.000+12:002005-08-06T07:41:27.893+12:00Regard the EarthOut therein ragged tindo they lookat the spinning varicose cloud the burning treethat left a huskno children barren wastelandcreeping like pasteover horizons the silence of corruption the flatnessof deathcrawls in timewalks on fractures7:38am 6-8-2005Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1119514227548447162005-06-23T19:56:00.000+12:002005-06-23T20:18:37.000+12:00The Flower and The TreeCurling about the centre of all the hand of comforttakes time to lay upon the door material caught and trailing in soottar cleansed by that effort she makesa grunt with and seals fate with changeHandbag clasp upon the lake measures notthe learning of days long drawn past jewels float in the still waterfables unmade beds cause shake and fretthe dear sweet ones you took in Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1118018168878324722005-06-06T12:35:00.000+12:002005-06-07T01:28:17.696+12:00Couple of NitsThe man and the woman spoke together and alone they thought without speaking. The man and the woman thought they would speak but afraid of what the other would respond with, they kept counting the seconds that passed without incident. The man and the woman thus sat in the garden, passing the time as insects flew past them without even knowing that the man and the woman were somehow Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1112871978636201942005-04-07T23:05:00.000+12:002005-04-07T23:06:18.636+12:00The man wanted meto be his Queenand I said nobut I like to winShe said gobut I found it hardto be the otherand not the motherBut nowI can make historyof any chance ofhis popularityfor this he loves mefor this he feelsbound to comment onmy dress, how its cutis profoundly agreeableno lessNicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1112401360281581312005-04-02T10:50:00.000+12:002005-04-02T12:22:40.283+12:00Is there anybody in the park?When I arrive there latemy fist is grazedby the raw iron gatebut the catch slipsand I am with the treeslistening to the ever buzzingof cicadas the humming ofSibelius and the sound of a wing brushing byThe bark holds ona brittle magnified skinmore divine and elegantthan our sloughing coverour coughing splutterand gasping breaththat the trees lap upcleaning the airNicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1112173640381567562005-03-30T20:56:00.000+12:002005-03-30T21:07:20.383+12:00half things don't weave bits of stringjust water warmed up ready for steamkilling sound with a padding a horn blowing thumpingeating snow because you stuck your hand in the ovenlanguage keeps guard of your childbricks house your thoughtsimprison your feelersNicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1111651281096695362005-03-24T19:55:00.000+12:002005-03-24T20:05:47.336+12:00Fresh, as a DaisyPlucked at a late stage the bus travelleddown the forbidden lane grasping at glancesby passers by in their licenced gownsand heavy sack as mat facts that rattlethe nerves of the bent silent one fastcasting his wares free into his flockShe lies on the silver beak of a stormunaware of how its unseating her waysas it worms its way in and takes all her thingsLosing all that into dustNicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1111597736934742682005-03-24T05:08:00.000+12:002005-03-24T05:08:56.936+12:00Fresh in the memoryeventually the beautiful vaguereflections sharp on the wavesbut for now stories aboutthings in the hearttimes we hold dear clear callings to hang dreamsbetter than the ticking in the hallwaysSo much is absurd that none of the birdsobserve much except the nerves of the judgeand the vast ribbon that unfolds thusthe vast chain of reason that unfurls sothe liquid course of Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1109947441730237082005-03-05T03:43:00.000+13:002005-03-05T03:44:01.733+13:00The Lions at DawnStretch their legsletting the blood runback to their heartand then as the startingrhythm starts and amblesin silken gowns reflecting dark against tanrippling brows of ancient sunlight caught in the maze stalking its preyfailed to see the escape and freethe bird takes to the skyit takesand itflysawayMarch 1st 2005Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1105081067543924192005-01-07T19:57:00.000+13:002005-01-07T19:57:47.543+13:00dumbfoundryNicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1105080915643891352005-01-07T19:55:00.000+13:002005-01-07T19:55:15.643+13:00Happy Birthday to ya
even though twas late
it was thought of
but by gawd
not forgotten
but lost to the fog
rolling the sodden
log rotates
a way down
to the gates
of curled iron
the trails that lead
nowhere
but leave
pictures on the air
solid yet ephemeral
(and if that is a word
I am an emerald)
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1104996265082602282005-01-06T20:23:00.000+13:002005-01-06T20:24:25.083+13:00Happy Birthday to ya
even though it was late
it was thought of
but by gawd
forgotten
but not lost
to the fog
or the sodden
log that rotated
it way down
through the gates
of curled iron
and the path
that leads
nowhere
aloudNicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1087189590295207992004-06-14T17:06:00.000+12:002004-06-14T17:08:55.633+12:00Thing
lurking in the corner like a symphony
unfinished
tepid through the warming up
the fashions of plink and pluck
the style of the fingers
and the fall of the hammer
the pulse that it formed
and where it took you
beat up old cloths lying
in the back of the garden
worn clothes that have no labels
toed morning imprints in the dew
corny fat acorn imprecise and direct
falling under the Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1086092809527655872004-06-02T00:26:00.000+12:002004-06-02T00:26:49.526+12:00bends in heat
join in the slippery grin
kill a few pauses with a gentle weave
to sort out the clauses in the folding leaves
dripping under causes that cause her to weep
over pools of dormentaries with
dripping holes in the roof
any hunt for mystery
a part of the dance is the sword
it never can cut but it adds
danger to the magic
equation providing pulses of danger
to remind us to slow down
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1086030871970184772004-06-01T07:14:00.000+12:002004-06-01T07:14:31.970+12:00tender soft
pitter patter go the feet
feeling a way around
fitter fatter the complete
paraody of tarnished fatherhood
bit of rat on the street
tipped hat at the police
long explanations at the border
the taking of drifters as
prisoners and setting them to
lunch with bankers
the listing of hit listers
driving the harbour masters
starkers as they try and keep
the evening from closing
the parks Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1086030255644988932004-06-01T07:04:00.000+12:002004-06-01T07:04:15.643+12:00ruby
flawed to the eye
yet smooth to the finger
hold it to light
and it falls and
breaks the ground
skip over the crease
the folds of your skin
the taste of your feet
and the skip over the crease
the lift of your eye lids
to the drip of your aphids
from the heavy heart
of a flower
to the black pits dug
by disease every hour
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1085515677302182102004-05-26T08:06:00.000+12:002004-05-26T08:09:54.956+12:00
season of maple
the trees call unto your eyes
make you seem unwise
make you hear it lie
tears flow from the bottom of the pool
finding faults in the afternoon
lonely hearts wait for the phone to ring
but those entranced by doves
walk into the dark arcade
drawn in by your love
and falling under
branches waving at the wing
losen its shift between the skin
its silent when it drops
its going Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1085177007294270182004-05-22T10:03:00.000+12:002004-05-22T10:03:27.296+12:00Tolerate
Look your brother in the eye and
be please with him
Your brother goin' to die
or see you die first if you unlucky
but with a smile
at your memory
with the gift
only eyes can giveNicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1084708532180652272004-05-16T23:55:00.000+12:002004-05-17T00:08:52.676+12:00Money
A small stream is caught by the frost and this locks everything up
and everything kind of dies right at that point
spending money is pointless
fatigue is stray in the columns of spreadsheets
accountants are shooting out their teeth
one by one they fall like flies each Friday
favour falls like the leaves burnt by the first suggestion
the sun may fail they glow red to keep warm
during the Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1084087581524372372004-05-09T19:26:00.000+12:002004-05-09T19:38:11.200+12:00A stamp carefully placed on the table
not remembered caught by wind
and taken over room to corner
waiting bait for the vacuum cleaner
then his panic and the host
recognising Victoria
bending down to be found
holding it by that most
peculiar border
unfortunate time as
the last breath let go
a wish held fast
inside right fist
consider the head
was heavier than last
feather dead
fast past
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1082849650562865882004-04-25T11:34:00.000+12:002004-04-25T11:37:11.780+12:00
Intriging Dignity
Jaded circumstances in eggshells
Not needy and hardly hearty
Those gestures and medical grin
flumoxed by the bar queue
and reasonable restraint with
yellow painted lines around the lie
forget the main object for a while and
season the child
give a little bit of your time
make it important to them
because they know they are
something you stopped being
a long time ago
and Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1081541198035158822004-04-10T08:06:00.000+12:002004-04-10T08:11:50.733+12:00Friday
Burning the offer and walking as fast as he could the man turned around and stamped on his foot.
Pulled about the dark walls the sheets are tight as a horse the storm tugs progess along the pages
And the man speaks light from both feet he is dreading the course his breast is bent and fingers tense
He is playing with bits of gorse hardening in cement he is playing like a ship divides Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1080506635657886992004-03-29T08:43:00.000+12:002004-03-29T08:47:04.090+12:00Loose Cannons
Strike hot iron
Get it while its hot
and run like the wind
Fire in their hearts
hair a flame and
their eyes mean business
Loosened and chalk
tall tales lend authority
and self righteous
neglect and piety
Sodden arm trouser
Rotten sleeve and
Bad albums,
Lost leaves
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1079047968577878202004-03-12T12:32:00.000+13:002004-03-12T12:41:34.560+13:00a poem about leaving
for competition
embrace burning hot ice
each eye locked in shudder
the morning, born of a crowing in the distance
that look in your eyes
the pages of the book
you turned over during the morning meal
that noble appeal to me and my sense of valour
you thought I understood
you thought that air rising in my breast was not fear
you thought I would let it all come to naught
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1077955123743414822004-02-28T20:58:00.000+13:002004-02-28T21:17:04.483+13:00Chaos and Matter II
(2004 Version - revised)
The shoes fit like gloves
onto tender hands that
caress midnight fears away
like the wandering feathers of an
untied goose ... blissfully
like the ancient artificated sites
of quarries
or a curdle forming in cream
- tenderly
capsules arrive to take you
to the forgotten forest
chinks in time play a patter past
all the rolling out moments that
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1077937837476578692004-02-28T16:10:00.000+13:002004-02-28T16:12:42.110+13:00discomfort
No faint hearted slide
from nibble to night
No walk in the dark
for thieves no glide
no seat for the side
no wheat for the blind
no thing to eat
the ground
is not fertile
but feet are lost
in clouds
there are leaks in the
logic of the house
there are mosaic patterns
shattered themes and lost
files
there are promises
she didn't keep
locked up in
false smiles
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1076523995602473302004-02-12T07:26:00.000+13:002004-02-12T07:28:23.576+13:00Fast life
Light my cigarette?
It was a stump, not a fag
It was a found item
It was scarred rubbish
but she was an old woman in a childs life
all ready to gasp addiction lungs
failing and the scars on her face
Do you have any?
she knew how to ask
No.
I already died.
I said.
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1076522913258710112004-02-12T07:08:00.000+13:002004-02-12T07:10:21.466+13:00Jaws drop at the suggestion
The walls are warm and thick
and the doors are flapping
with a fine sense of indignation
The summer is here
It is not going to fall
Just desserts for the land
Lips curl around your words forming a snarl
music falls like wooden pegs
in this dance of shallow words
Loose ties that keep us going
in these times of dark looks
through feeble smiles
noble hooks to take Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1072204971885283782003-12-24T07:42:00.000+13:002003-12-24T07:44:48.340+13:00
The truth about whirl winds
They planned it here and here
but it was there and all over there
whipping tails have a habit of
cleaning out the room full of
toys opening the cupboard door
and out they fall...
From where that breath comes?
The nexus of the vortex is naught
The long darkness spreads its magic wings
and you are lost in a shower of frost
Crawling out of the darkness and Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1071243729516214172003-12-13T04:42:00.000+13:002003-12-13T04:44:43.340+13:00The Dark Dream
The sun rose above our heads
giving me moments to aborb its ointment
and notice your gentle breath coaxing teasing and tugging
the wandering flock of clouds now
distant as the tremble under your eyelid
settles me
to a peace
unknown in my war-torn
dream-life away from home
19 June 1992
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1070403581261037802003-12-03T11:19:00.000+13:002003-12-03T11:20:19.060+13:00 Normal
not extreme
like the wind
but barely noticeable
this is my world
and sticking to it
whatever you call it
average in between
nothing exploding
no fantastic leap
the lights are burning
the leaves are on the ground
its winter and it snows
when you get cold
it is because of the weather
when you lose at cards
it feels dreadful
penny dry
12:08am 2 December 2003Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1069204850173068882003-11-19T14:20:00.000+13:002003-11-19T14:23:27.513+13:00singing in the past
regrets are left
and vast rests
wet like the blood
starts in my head
outlasts and
still when I am dead
nothing stays the way
it was meant to be
nothing except
the air at night
nothing except
children keep
thoughts sacred
like these
channels dug
by vast hungry armies
walking and leaking
eyes sun set red
in the west
and now its best to
play dead
but I guess but its
timeNicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1068928343494731862003-11-16T09:17:00.000+13:002003-11-16T09:32:44.373+13:00youth
they walked in a web
of fusion
drifting about them
security
nobody could believe it
as they shouted at the water
and rapped on the
muscle of the door
together safe
individually corrupt
7:47pm
15 Nov 2003
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1059409273448871512003-07-29T04:21:00.000+12:002003-07-29T04:21:13.486+12:00 Insolence The muck stops here the affront in the irony the trouble with being guilty the trouble with being found harmless the trouble with the finery what it hides below the line what it hides without a sense of personae or a lasting sense of time she winked at me awkwardly, and lunged at her quarry in passive recline he sat, relaxed, at ease out of place draped like a leaf over the arched Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1058763015916481652003-07-21T16:50:00.000+12:002003-11-19T14:46:48.763+13:00bewares
beware of friends
you step around
they will never be pleased
with your distance
beware of friendly offers
to help you fix the motor
they lose the bolts
or the clips for the carboretter
then leave you stranded while
they search their garage
for the one they found last week
you know, the one they found last week
beware of the needs
of those more thirsty than most
and the bleeding Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1057459122713426762003-07-06T14:38:00.000+12:002003-11-19T16:22:54.780+13:00
morning
an early gasp of light
shatters darkness
day draws on
cars queue on the bridge
and evening
falls like words whispered
from a mother
to her childNicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1056990710111686942003-07-01T04:31:00.000+12:002003-07-01T04:36:14.776+12:00Until we Go
the line fades all winter
but then that sun rises and makes the landscape
light warm and pleasant and you know this
because you can see the dust hang in the air
there is a silence we go to
a silence we crave all our days
a silence that eludes nearly all of us
until we go
go down toward where strong bones
take control
where there is life there is time and where there is time
weNicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1054037856968401792003-05-28T00:17:00.000+12:002003-05-28T00:17:37.293+12:00Jack knife
flick
goes the gears
colliding thumbs in darkness
deadly units of gray
horrid bonfire
bad story after bad
leaves in the unhurried tree
mixed presoaked deadly roots
can never sense its
island drift into
wayward rock icicles
it missed
the flag refurling celebrations
the valid avail held
back by scarred minor
vacuums that scurry
along the creaking alley
the corner of a vortex
lined Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5430630.post-1054035042311754492003-05-27T23:30:00.000+12:002003-05-27T23:30:42.573+12:00
Here follows the content of the broken blog
chaosmatters in one big post.
This is for the archives...
The original is here
[5/4/2003 3:40:52 AM | nicholas alexander]
Limp Justice
Just before she came down with her dogs
to the village
Her crown fell from the roof of her landrover
and laughter was heard in the court
A congressional hearing was interrupted by storms
soothsaying by Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0