Strider Marcus Jones

~ strider marcus jones

The Open Mouse

MOURNING DAD

he is decomposed
from a bramble rose
now-
his thorns
of storms
drow,
foetal curled
in the underworld
faerie peat without plough.

is it fun
with all those comical
musical
jacketed jesters-
or primplum
suitedrun
by posh ancestors-
doing the same this and that
to keep your spirit level flat
with docile protestors
wired to silicon investors.

i bought this new fedora hat
in whitewashed Mijas
to be my own brown
Romany
see as-
let them face their ignominy
when i wear it here in town-
like an un-shoed horse
from the roadgorse
prancing right
through their moralless light
brim slanted defiantly down
eyes outsider brown.

is it no Left or Right there.
do you have your chair
to sit in.
can you smoke your pipe
gathering stars in its clouds at night
thinking thoughts in nothing.
do you still use words
to help wingless birds
or is…

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Published by strider marcus jones

Strider Marcus Jones – is a poet, law graduate and ex civil servant from Salford/Hinckley, England with proud Celtic roots in Ireland and Wales. A member of The Poetry Society, his five published books of poetry are modern, traditional, mythical, sometimes erotic, surreal and metaphysical http//www.lulu.com/spotlight/stridermarcusjones1. He is a maverick, moving between forests, mountains and cities, playing his saxophone and clarinet in warm solitude. His poetry has been published in the USA, Canada, England, Ireland, Wales, France, Spain and Switzerland in numerous publications including mgv2 Publishing Anthology:And Agamemnon Dead; Deep Water Literary Journal; The Huffington Post USA; The Stray Branch Literary Magazine; Crack The Spine Literary Magazine; A New Ulster/Anu; Outburst Poetry Magazine; The Galway Review; The Honest Ulsterman Magazine; The Lonely Crowd Magazine; Section8Magazine; Danse Macabre Literary Magazine; The Lampeter Review; Ygdrasil, A Journal of the Poetic Arts; Don't Be Afraid: Anthology To Seamus Heaney. http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/stridermarcusjones1 . http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=ntt_athr_dp_sr_1?_encoding=UTF8&field-author=Strider%20Marcus%20Jones&search-alias=books-uk My poetry blogs are: https://stridermarcusjonespoetry.wordpress.com/ http://poetrybystridermarcusjones.blogspot.co.uk/ Location: Paris, France For his published poetry books: Aspects Of Love; Inside Out; Mavericks; Wooded Windows and Pomegranate Flesh see: http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/strider... http://www.amazon.co.uk/s/ref=nb_sb_s... http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_... Read poems from his books with reviews and comments on http://www.wattpad.com/user/striderma. ..Join him on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/stridermarcu... His poetry blogs are: http://http://poetrybystridermarcusjo... http://stridermarcusjonespoetry.wordp... Join him on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/stridermarcu... http://www.huffingtonpost.com/strider... Read this brilliant review of one of the poems from WOOODED WINDOWS http://dagdapublishing.co.uk/2014/09/... And so you sit and stay since you’ve been com­ing to the run­ning of my day, the in between of real and dream is drawn in what we say now i lie sun­ning in the sum­mer of your way. it shapes the shade around me, foun­da­tions where you found me, emp­ty­ing that grey obelisk of thought stood in the room no more scar­ring the bloom– and so, you sit and stay motions mend­ing me, feet turn­ing wheel, hands shap­ing clay. © Strider Mar­cus Jones **** Today’s fea­tured poem comes from Strider Mar­cus Jones. A piece wrought with intri­cate sym­bol­ism, “And So You Sit And Stay” deals with an ambigu­ous love and the capac­ity under­stand­ing and com­pan­ion­ship have for heal­ing, both men­tally and phys­i­cally. The sea­sons and their cor­re­spond­ing wildlife are utilised in a con­tin­u­ous metaphor through­out the poem, to the extent that much like the dis­solved bar­rier “in between [the] real and dream” the repaired flower that is “no more scar­ring the bloom-​​” can be inter­preted as the narrator’s inter­nal soul and mended emo­tions, a view­point that is given fur­ther depth by the narrator’s “sun­ning in the sum­mer of your way” an abstract, though beatific grat­i­tude to the unnamed subject’s kind­ness. Much of the imagery in this piece is organic and wild, except that which deals with the narrator’s sit­u­a­tion before the unnamed sub­ject came upon them: “emp­ty­ing that grey obelisk of thought stood in the room” Again there is a wil­ful com­bi­na­tion of the phys­i­cal and men­tal planes, though here it is used to demon­strate the bleak­ness of the narrator’s lonely plight — an imper­sonal, tow­er­ing civic con­struct that f (less)

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