The Fork of Ambiguity » Dark http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com Multi-tyned Poems Tue, 13 Jul 2010 07:57:45 +0000 en hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.0 Apple Schnapps http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/162 http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/162#comments Wed, 24 Sep 2008 13:52:04 +0000 lunc http://www.the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/?p=162 I am rotten.
An apple on the edge,
at the very top of
my oak sided barrel.

I am drunk.
With my own dark ooze.
This juicy fermentation
trickles down to those below.

I am manner.
Wasps fight for the ripe,
nibbling at my soft flesh.
Stinging the hand of god.

I am patient.
Crushed and bled dry,
pigs scoff on my core.
My essence distils slowly.

I am power.
In the voice of your youth,
renewed strength in his arm.
Fuel for your weakened mind.

I am death.
The impulse of a thousand
stabs and cuts or tightened fists.
My enemies fight on my command.

]]> http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/162/feed 0 Chicken of Despair http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/54 http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/54#comments Tue, 22 Jan 2008 15:54:48 +0000 lunc http://www.the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/54 Every dawn I romped with the chicken of despair.
Afterwards I would roast it and eat it hot.
The dinner dance often clucked ‘til dusk;
fat with chicken I was a stout but happy fellow.
Now, your diet pills, taken with cold water
(because a fat man must never dance outside)
make me hate even the smell of chickens.
I am not thinner.
Nor am I empty.

I’m a wicker man.
Virgin fear clucking in my belly.
Alight, we could roast together,
but I must let it peck and claw my insides;
eat my cornflakes and cheese sandwiches and smile
(because I know it will want a dance after its tea).
I say I like them and you say I’m better.
I am better.
Better at hiding chicken bones.

]]> http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/54/feed 0 Repulsing Around http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/41 http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/41#comments Fri, 09 Nov 2007 21:24:47 +0000 lunc http://www.the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/41 I tire of this game.
Understanding the rules
most poorly puts me
out of bounds
each and every round.
So I’ve turned
it against them.


Sitting and gently rocking
compressing my hands
between my body and chair,
the numbing spreads,
but it’s only a delay.
Silence is draining and
an ineffective strategy.
To maintain ones status quo
always requires direct action.
Repulsion is everything.
It alters the exchange
rate in my favour.
I dress for their discomfort,
keep an unkempt beard,
hunch over or stare vacantly,
then just when action is called:
I wave my smooshed fingers
around and start to barter.
Quel horreur! “It Speaks”.
I love that look. Smiling
I collect the time I need.
For lunch I walk around
the corner to a nearby lake.
A thirty minute revolution.
The lake takes all my
bad feeling whilst I
take a walk. Another
excellent exchange.
But there are
several more rounds
this afternoon and I must
circulate wisely if
I am to retain the right
to leave work on time.
Muddy shoes will do nicely.

]]> http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/41/feed 2 Tuned Out http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/28 http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/28#comments Wed, 19 Sep 2007 13:05:31 +0000 lunc http://www.the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/28

streaming visions calm –
technology overrides
happy worker minds

]]> http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/28/feed 0 Webzietgeist http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/26 http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/26#comments Sat, 08 Sep 2007 08:56:25 +0000 lunc http://www.the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/26 The mighty walk amongst us
looking just as we do but
seeing only themselves in
everything they do or say.
I see nothing of them.

The righteous sit above us
looking down as we do but
reflecting our choices in
anything we do or say.
I get nothing from them.

The ambitious stand upon us
looking upwards as we do but
thinking of our feelings in
nothing they do or say.
I am nothing to them.

The masses wait before us
looking hopeful as we do but
living with the shortfall in
something we do or say.
I have nothing for them.

I am outcast, punished by want,
hated for greed, surrounded by need.
Yet, I can’t leave. I am investing in us
teaching you, pushing myself higher
giving everything for our place.

]]> http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/26/feed 0 Inner Sun http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/20 http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/20#comments Sun, 19 Aug 2007 15:33:07 +0000 lunc http://www.the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/20

quickly fill my mind –
oh joyous spoon of sunshine
cloud that harshness out

]]> http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/20/feed 0 Doodle Bug http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/13 http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/13#comments Wed, 01 Aug 2007 10:13:02 +0000 lunc http://www.the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/13

landing in silence –
clacking hum stops all but fear
squash it or flee

]]> http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/13/feed 0 Chosen Pebble http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/12 http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/12#comments Tue, 31 Jul 2007 13:30:28 +0000 lunc http://www.the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/12 I am but a steady pebble,
faceless in the company
of many similar fellows.

My uniqueness formed in
the constant crushing
contact as we are shifted.


Your approach crunches,
jarring our bodies to bear
the weight of your passing.

Seeing something in me
countless others overlooked,
I am pulled into existence.

Your fingers trace my lines
and then gently enrobe me.
I am warmly held in your palm.

Resting in your pocket, chosen,
I am something in your destiny,
our future purpose pending.

]]> http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/12/feed 0 Foolish Fish http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/10 http://the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/10#comments Sun, 29 Jul 2007 09:11:41 +0000 lunc http://www.the-fork-of-ambiguity.com/archives/10 I’m not a
foolish fish.
I see your
hook
with its fat
deadly temping
morsel.

I spy the
still fakery
of your
vulgar, brightly
coloured
hand twisted
lure.

I trace out
the thin
line like
a highway
racing to
where you
stand.

I see all
your tricks and
feel the soft
tugging
motions that
wiggle the
worm.

I lie still
and deep,
skulking calmly,
waiting for
the fate of
the weaker
fellow.

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