unknown poet

eye sockets,

mere

figures of speech,

stare

metaphorically

at the lyric

bed;

these words

crawl,

scarab

beetles,

from

the

open

fissure

that was

mouth,

flocking

manic

through

tissued

tongue,

while

skeletal

fingers

rhyme

e r r a t I c a l l y

with

those

fleshless

toes

s  p  l  a  y  e  d

d

e

e

p

beneath

dried

corpus:

the

ragged

body

of

his

work.

after rebuttal

when I see you

nowadays

I am

not

me

anymore,

rather

some

glib simulacrum

of my former

glory.

a pastiche

of motley

pass-me-ons

&

hand-me-downs.

it was the coldness of your dismissal

that sliver ed my hopes,

sli ced me up,

shard

boy,

shard

man,

a whispering idiot

FULL of hot air

signifying

nothing.

the has-been

who played on

well past

retirement,

just

another

bit-player

reduced to drivel

in his own B grade

movie,

sp  lin   te   re   d,

self-pitying

like   this

across                   the                   pages

here

and

there…

ad nauseum.



the tide came in for years
and people felt warm
and unlatched their positions
drifted out to sea a little
trying to get traction in the wind

the time went out
and they fight
to keep their homes from sinking
down to the level of shoreline
and anenomies clumped to rocks
their arcane inspection of drifting particles

at first sight a handshake is more important than the facts
revealing the self is a faux pas when advantages
became reasons to be eaten
the pack of needful people starving
wander the streets looking
not for the empty
houses but the ones with food in them

they keep them out with
dogs and razor wire fences

a war with hunger its mediator

but the man is coming to be paid
and the money evaporated so away
he takes the wires and the alarms
and the dogs are now hungry and
they close the doors on them
barricade themselves into
shells with concrete walls

and pray
for the
good old
days

The sun rose above our heads
giving me moments to absorb 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

- Nicholas Alexander
- 19 June 1992

squinting thru the smoky window

again

agonizing need for clear euphoria

I see that mountain

concealed

thru the window

that mound of dirty mud

piled higher than elephant shit

no desire to focus

dancing thru the dry iced dawn

I’ll take my study of avoidance

with one more breath drawn

and choking laughter

stinging eyed joy

correctional balancing of mind

revealing beautiful half notes

cradling the divine musical door

its wide open

hence rusty reality no user can use

the knocking pisses me off

turn toward momentary time

of tingles

arousing playfully

the lost child that’s willingly lost

in the maze of real truth

nothing and no where

is the real truth

the reality

the dimensions

densities’

hello 5^th dimension

I welcome you

my kind and gentle soft view addiction

with no judgment

no star tears falling like raindrops

and no mountain

just a smoky window

filled with glittering dust and sparkling diamonds

kicking off prisms of om’

again

written by Vanessa 13/11/07

Mad men and muses on my screen appear
Scribes of pieces prized
texturalised justifications neutralised
lobotomized
rationalised
war-tified

Humans designed for pain wee man thinks & destinations death, hollow legions capture our pavements gutter & lay lost, solitude found in question & interrogation the weak he still belches & answering the ego’s fears the fool stands faking his theory & he must need it, needs to know & leader wept & ambassador to his he finds some comfort & answer uncovers the jukebox den & his deceased soul hides behind his tombstone & needs to be shown sorrow & love “would anybody care, I was a somebody?” & silence seekers moan…fool crys & wonders when a tune is ever played for him – “who’s demeaning who?” sings wee man.

Land and Sea

The land belongs to the sea and the sea belongs to thee
The way I figure it is our ancestors came from the sea
Sure they were lizards, fat lazy old lizards but before they
walked about pushing trees over or fighting it out
smashing exoskeleton against exskeleton
- bits broke off and dust clouded our view – they emerged from the deep

The land belongs to the sea as it grew out of
it
borne out of itself
before the land
was water – water

water everywhere you looked

who is to say when land
first appeared and the first creature
staked a claim to it

sought to dominate by saying it
belonged to it

the land belongs to the sea
and the sea, it belongs to thee

Now is the King of the Land holed up in his fortress
immune to the odd attack?
As his defenses were extreme
the army in his pay laid everything to waste
they wanted to kill murder and rape
they were rewarded with titles and slaves
and claimed that land
but it already belonged to the place.

They would only be conquered
by the King of the Sea.

Thinking their towers of stone
were held together fast with hard mud
thinking the army held it together
by titular examples of valour (by thugs)
thinking their actions
would provide villages for children
to watch them poisoned by drugs
that army marched over the daisies
crushed them like ice
with hammers

so the old man staggers
and waves a stick at the passing cloud
it was once his land but now it’s ours
as the march of his money is counted
that army devours the flowers

it was enough
the waves swallowing him
he holds the stick over his head
unharmed certain of death in her tender arms

the land belongs to the sea
and the sea
it belongs to thee

Were you young or old when you exploded?
Did you have an inkling – of your shape that unfolded?
I do know not –
You had company I see
as I twirl on this wind swept crevice
Other mounts that give us bearings
more than directions in our city
Meeting places for many of past
They understand your height, your depth –
in telling of your beauty
and the strength you hold in being.
A vantage point or a vacant niche –
Waiting for a predatory invasion.
What’s beneath your steep incline?
Layer upon layer …
Are we like you – whether young or old
We can implode –
explode – what are the triggers?
What do you teach us?
Lying here I listen but cannot grasp your enormity
But calmed and understanding inner strength.
Do we all lay dormant?
Waiting for that moment
when procrastination goes
and action is taken of our nature and woes.

Copyright Deana Platt 2002 (aka Emancipation Planz)

A night out

One evening we went for a movie
It turned out to be
The usual display of
Dumb trivialities
I was bored out of my wits
Sitting in the dark
Yawning and scratching myself
We’d had a beer before so
As the movie progressed
I became restless, shifting on my seat
Dying from the need to piss
I guess I didn’t pay much attention
To what was going on the screen
I nudged my wife and whispered
‘Let’s get the Hell out of here’
We filed out and hurried to the restroom
It felt like the evening’s greatest moment
After a movie
We went for a pizza
And had a few more beers. After that
We popped into quick store
Bought us a bottle
Then headed back home
We killed it while sitting in a living room then
An argument started
‘So you think you’re someone?’ my wife said
‘I bet you think you’re a genius.’
She was laughing like crazy as we
Continued to talk about the movie and my own writing
‘Yeah, you’re just great’ she said
‘You wrote
Your God damned novel
So now
You think you’re made. Admit it!’
And I said ‘Shit. I’m a genius. I wrote a great novel. It’s
352 pages long and it’s damn good one.’
‘You’d been fired from all your jobs,’ – she said ‘and I have been
Supporting you for years with all your writing and art.
Did you ever count how much you’ve spent on that alone?
YOU OWE ME THOUSANDS!’
We kept screaming and arguing till late then
Went to bed. I was writing some crazy chapter in my sleep then
I awoke. It was terrible
A pizza was turning in my gut burning my insides
It was four a.m.
I felt reluctant to get up
And go to the kitchen for a drink of water
I was afraid the floor would creak and moan under my feet
I was afraid to wake up my wife but
I couldn’t lie like that any longer
So I gathered my strength and got up
The damn floor was creaking and moaning under my feet as I
Crept toward the sink
I drank some water then went
To the living room, lit cigarette
And started thinking
About books, my life and all that
I felt like writing something but decided to
Go to bed instead, still musing
About death
Money
Fame
Bad pizza
Booze
I dozed off
In the morning
The whole street was
Buried under snow.

Copyright © Alexander Mikhaylov

Of the news that continually screens along the bottom of my TV
This morning I perchanced to observe of
‘Hillary Clinton’s White Hose Surge’

and I wondered
Is she about to do a Bill?
Oh for the love of a good Purge!

Deana Platt copyright 9/10/97

Starship it to me and I’ll take you on a ride
Not around the planet but deep to the inside
There will always be guides that lead from A to Z
But rock on this Foundation to find out how it reads.

ADHB it sounds just like a syndrome
Better check it out – it may lead to symptoms.
Children of our nation – you do not despair
Doctors’ bustle everywhere fixing out repairs
Entering those parts where our parents just can’t reach
Food trolleys rustle by but iceblocks are the treat
Germs are the enemy
Hurry to get the best care
Iceblocks everywhere because it
Jollies our spirits
Kisses are plentiful
Lifts take us up and down and Love abounds
Medicinal healings, magical feelings
Nurses on hand to meet your demands
Open heartbreaks are many
Parents ….laying cards and games at times
Quietness we sometimes like
Rumble and tumble on our mind – Radio Lollipop
Soothes our insides
There are many open heartbreaks but always times of joy
Unique and treasured moments
Volunteers and visitors – preciously valued
Willing and ever ready
You’ll see not only patients, parents and some toys
Zoom around and visit please…
it helps to mend our needs.

Copyright Deana Platt, 2002 (aka Emancipation-Planz)