May 2013
21 posts
5 tags
Hand Measure by Micah Dorn
There is the grief in my left palm, a pulp of heavy lamentations;
The ‘Ohs’, the groans, the sighs that sigh away a pithy thought.
Webbed crows etched in the skin of my fist, my curled hand,
Knuckles bearing up against the contours, cuneiform edges grazing
in red, wet contusions into the right palm. The thumb is retracted,
Stroking the hope which lies there to sleep, to wake in...
Waves of us By Kristina V Griffiths
Electricty upon my finger tips, Everytime dark clouds - Take over the skylight, Colossal claps of thunder Roll out like tumble weeds, Let move forward, And walk upon the sodden sands. Red hot anguish pierces the surface, Of the calm ocean waves, Passionate as sin, Faster than the wind, Looking into your eyes, Trying to make sense Time after time, Tonight at times like these- I should be over the...
7 tags
When he decides to write… by Shafaq Noor
Sharpened pencils. A whole box. Same length. Yellow.
Old desk. Cedar. Aged with thoughts. Through the years.
Many meanderings. Late nights. Long hours.
Scratching ears. Furrowed brow.
Stale coffee. Out of filters. Time ticks by.
Clocks, a background hum.
Pages crumpled. Outlined. Underlined
Words flow. Fall. Rise. Slow.
Revealing.Wonderstruck. With little luck.
Frantic scribbling. Pipe...
10 tags
Death in the Afternoon by Abhimanyu Kumar Singh
Summer came suddenly this year.
Like a bird of prey
Swooping down.
Or young death.
The air breeds lust.
Sunlight bounces off the streets
Like a wet tennis ball.
Evil walks quietly
Blowing smoke rings
Through the luminous haze
Of the still-born day.
Heat rises slowly
Like the chronic anxiety
Of the eternally hopeful.
(end)_
Pater Noster by Douglas Dunn
In memory of you, long dead,
I hang in this yet unsung balance.
I know you what you are
So you, in return, acknowledge my skill
at seeing through your facade.
Lend me your eyes, dear friend,
I shall present you with a paper ticket
(which you must immediately give back for safe-keeping).
I may be cracking up inside, but they still believe my image.
Switch the gas heater off now, let’s save
our...
A Man Approaches a Casket by Jeffrey Lee Owens
old hands
have seen so much.
ragged gloves with
jagged bones
hold a face with
sunken fingernails
and make sounds
like paper.
10 tags
21 tags
Last summer... by Rafferty
I met Brazilians, Argentinians, Americans, Germans, Italians, Iranians, Mozambicans, Kenyans and Scousers.
I ate, drank and smoked with all of them and met the realisation that my mistrust of the Spanish was universal. I saw sunsets on beer-strewn piers, sunrises from cold Berlinese penthouses and crying Britons bombarded with firecrackers, because they were crying.
I made friends with...
7 tags
9 tags
Like You by Christina Issa
intuitively, i am yours
without speech or gestures
of the body like plants
belonging to soil and
letters belonging to
words or the night’s embrace of
dark and a crowded elevator to
silence or like a song to
the lark and how foam
goes with an ocean
a cliff’s commitment to
its edges or how temptation belongs
to boredom or neurons
to our guts and how...
15 tags
I'm Not Sure by Katie Mcilvenny
I like people who know their insides
All coiled and misshapen from intoxication
All manner of men
Be him homeless
Faithless
Has a problem with an atheist
Whatever makes him praise with us
The blind and aimless wanderers
A following who feel a flinching
Sense of moral contradiction
A mangled array of junkies, uni flunkies, young mummies
A final summary
Of youth, frowning at where, why and how.
being a poet doesn't seem all that ridiculous. by...
I am a true believer in speaking to others in their language to have successful communication. This includes rude or polite language.
My hands are the emptiest spaces. But I’m no angel. no morning bluet, mountable linnet, mumbling nun.
i feel ignored, Every time because she couldn’t focus(fuckass) on porntube i come from howling...
4 tags
[…]I cry NOW. Death, like a familiar, hears And look, has made a man of dust of a man of flesh.
21 tags
Ecstatic like Jazz by Richard Miller
Winter rain falls
Ecstatic, like jazz Upon narcoleptic rooftops Penetrating This leaden-eyed town With sensuous bursts Of bebop rapture
The resounding squall Of frenzied horns The delicate shimmer Of piano keys The throbbing prosody Of the bass And of the drums Wake up! Leaden-eyed town! In your...
6 tags
11 tags
Smokes by Otto
Have you got a spare cigarette?
No, because that’s not a thing. That’s not anything
This fallacy of yours, it makes no sense
You’ve been too quick to draw water before inspecting the spring
For contaminated concepts
And indigestible abstractions
Why would I carry a spare cigarette? A pack of ten, but I’ll only ever smoke nine
That’s ridiculous
You’re inventing things
If...
10 tags
Rash Thought by Cassandra Parks
He stared at the screen and began typing:
Dearly beloveds,
I regret to inform you about my imminent departure. I wish I could have warned you sooner but to be honest this new situation caught me completely off guard as well. To my dear friends I ask that you keep me fondly in your memory and hold true to yourselves. I wish I could say I won’t be gone for long, but the reality is I will...
Crawdaddies by Ben Taylor
The sedimentary matter, having been dredged, is now disturbed. It is roiled and it swirls menacingly. A darkly kaleidoscopic vision which eclipses the fleshy tones of the sky above.
Soon it settles along the river floor. Crayfish covered in mud brandish their ragged claws at each other.
They revel under this layer of silt, scuttling blindly and anointing themselves with muck.
Antennae...
Irish by S. Allaire Masse
“Me Irish eyes ain’t smilin’” I’m as “broke as church mouse now”
Since O’bama took the White House, our fate is just to bow
To a man who believes himself a king, with a kingdom of peasants has he
He thinks his feat is to spend every dime and, change the “land of the free.”
Don’t say you don’t believe me, haven’t you seen him on Fallon and Jay?
He and Michelle think they have the right, to be on...
12 tags
The Line, The Song by Elan Webster
It was as if you painted with light, with the gestures of your hands as you describe how, when we moved up country, for the snow, and you describe the time we left the others and found ourselves beyond the ridgeline south facing, the silence, a pasture of snow, the shadows blue, a hard winter, the shadows darkening, the moon crescented so thin as to appear a harp string and as you describe what...
15 tags
Tree Child by Jade Clark
I try to get my child to suckle.
“It is no good Connie, it is no good.” They say.
“No good for whom?” I scream. “No good for whom?”
They do not flinch at my shrieks.
“My Bubo, my sweet Bubo.” I stroke his face.
“He isn’t your Bubo,” they say, ‘Just a doll, just a doll.”
I have a child who lives in the trees. I try to tell them, but they sneer.
“Tree child, eh?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll make sure the...
April 2013
43 posts
Never Let You Go by Simon Marshall
The window seat was a safe place. From there, almost the entire spectrum of English landscape was visible. The only view the ledge lacked, was the imposing polygons of a cityscape… which Marc didn’t much mind losing. From his vantage point, the countryside exposed its beauty in full. Vast, tumbling turtle-shell hills comprised of verdant fields knitted together with hedgerows and sycamores were...
A List at 5:30 PM, in class: by Solange Statsevich
1. Thirty minutes early to class.
2. I stare at this gorgeous brown wall. 3. It is kept company by three white walls, and shines in its distinct glory. 4. Okay, okay, enough with the crazy talk. 5. But I happen to notice 6. two other people here, 7. also quite early 8. even earlier than me. 9. Alright, alright, enough with the crazy talk 10. Sitting here, waiting for my writer teacher to grace his...
12 tags
lone park bench by Tim Heron
lone park bench between two trees snow-capped and glorious in the winter sun bed to a bearded sage with no roof but the zodiac haven to young lovers whose forbidden kisses shake the foundations of all that is confidant to an old woman wise and wrinkly and weak and beautiful tree trunks gnarled but beneath still very much green your naked boards are the threshold of Shangri-La
14 tags
11 tags
let us not concoct
healing potions for the dead,
nor invent
new colours
for blind eyes.
10 tags
The Terrible Tantrum Kid by Joe Abbitt
The terrible tantrum kid makes his way down the road,
snivelling into his duffel coat
and huffing at his mother.
To him she’s always been broccoli
and dastardly brussels sprouts,
sunday night baths, early bedtimes and
time to turn the lights out.
The terrible tantrum kid makes his way down the road,
volleying imaginary goals
and tucking pieces of his
probably-peanut-butter...
9 tags
Everyone had always faded... by K. Green
Everyone had always faded. Except you who foiled every trap my character set to capture tiresome things before they progressed. You could have done it blind, and you did, not knowing me or where I had lain them down, or carved them out. The little things I had done were not lost or brushed away. They glistened in the light and you studied the strings like fine silk because I had set them to...
21st Century Oil Painting by Joe Abercrombie
Health and safety regulations,
terms and conditions apply,
license plates and registration,
omniscient electric eyes.
The crimson sand on the pavement,
the remnants of broken glass,
minimum wage enslavement,
a blazing abandoned car.
A married man’s wondering hands,
the midnight street meat market,
subjective portraits of the damned,
the lumps of bile in vomit.
What bliss is there in...
Whimper by JS Rafaeli
I saw the feeblest minds of my generation elevated to greatness
Smug, complacent, clothed in money
Strolling through caucasian parks at noon
Hopelessly window-shopping for things forever lost.
And this is no solution.
This is a cheap joke, and a bad one.
And I am as guilty as all the rest.
And this is the way the world ends.
11 tags
Cairns by Emily Tripp
Sink in, down, and the wind is her forgotten voice. This story seat allows others original death. Stacked rocks are like faceless observers, or cast-out dice. No sky above, nor moor outside - alone between time’s teeth. Is this what it is to live? to crawl into a light between God and your head, all hope dead - as lovers at night.
Untitled by Dan Bnntt
you were born like a starling nested from the world
but your blood is sap only and like rainfall your love is torrential, and green.
9 tags
Our Mecca by Cassandra Dallett
Runaways In NYC
we met Johnny
a patch over one eye
tall, dirty blonde spikes, heroin physique
He was returning bottles for change like us
to buy beer across from CBGBs
from a liquor store behind thick plexi-glass.
He told us to jump the turnstile
and come hang out at his room
a small TV, a thin bedspread
he made us a tray
of Saltines with cheese
To Sir With Love was playing
a movie he loved
I had...
13 tags
Bren Gunner by J.M. Medeiros
Trapped in molecules of grey, his voice had the weight of rain in winter. Its timbre became thick and syrupy after too much cheap booze and cigarettes. Pursed lips leaked slurred syllables. From his dour, gap-toothed grin, he laughed in another language while a slurry of spittle and scotch bucketed down his chin. Jimmy Brae drank at the pub and died in the Fall.
He found death first in...
10 tags
Ending by Douglas Dunn
How easy it would be to slide a thin dark razor blade across the cold marble of this arm.
Suicide seduces. I will pay my debts, the wolves at the door, with the red rubies that pour from my slitted skin.
The haunting mockers With their pinstriped lobster claws can no longer clip me, pinning me to their tasteful wallpaper with pessimistic practicalities. I end.
Nothing more will hurt. The...
16 tags
Girl in a Blanket by Debojit Dutta
A bead had parted with the large curtain that hung lowly touching the floor of our drawing room. We walked close to it and tried to measure its sound. It fell once and tottered for some time on the surface, lost itself below the large sofa — a four-seater, largest of the three we had. Beneath its enormous existence it was always dusk. Its feet were very low. So low, that not even half of our...
There Had Once Been a Fantasy by Joshua Wagonblast
She would read all day. She thought it was calming, in contrast to the woods, the spa, or the beach… especially the beach. She could find all those scenarios in here novels anyhow, she deliberated. She began to ruminate a lot recently. She would delve into her own thoughts and become lost within them, trapped like a genie in a bottle, but free to explore. Everything was abstract within her...
16 tags
Garden City. by Jack Cooper
In an attempt to connect us
with the outside – they have placed
a little tinsel down the side of our windows –
to reflect gaudy headaches. Elegant displays.
We are liable to make many points. Expect us
to stop passersby with fresh complaints over C.B. radio.
As drivers pass
satellite instructions over open windows,
Inhaling the night & the choking diesel of two stations –...
Half-Dead, Half-Alive by Veronica Guaranda
half-dead half-alive
I lie in papers with symbols unknown
in languages broader than life itself.
What is death? What is life?
half-dead half-alive
with a caffeine overdose
and zombie eyes.
What is death? What is life?
half-dead half-alive
I lie amongst books with scents of vanilla
in languages broader than life.
What is death? What is life?
half-dead half-alive
with...
Brutal Reality by Stephen Elliott
Cease to exist In this beautiful disease Cannot face this pantomime Where we paint upon our faces Pretty smiles for the masses Yet I cannot call you mine So dear love I shall decline To fight this life upon the line We cannot win this losing game I can no longer take the shame And deal with all the pain That comes storming Hand in hand With loving him When he loves her…
8 tags
Streetlamps by Alex Knowles
I believe you, like a child
When you say everything is going to be alright,
With your crooked smile
Smile wet with whisky,
Those wicked, wicked eyes
Stay on me
All night.
I’m sitting at the bar, laughing,
Clutching my crutches
Johnnie black and Jack,
While you snap the strings of your guitar
To one of those sad songs,
About love,
About us.
The bartender fills my glass
So that my heart is not...
11 tags
Take off your clothes. by Megan Purdy
Take your clothes off,
Let me see your soft lines,
Smell your skin,
Take off your clothes,
Let me hold your hand,
Play and bite your neck,
Take off your clothes,
Love me, love me
And let’s dance, slow, hot and together.
10 tags
Mama's Boy by Joseph Harwick
I am not T.S. Eliot.
I’m not even one of those
guys who sits around and writes
Hallmark cards every day.
My dreams are vaginas
and dollar signs.
I am the most uninteresting man in the world.
I don’t normally write poems,
but when I do,
I prefer to write narcissistically
self-deprecating garbage
about not being able to write; or
how I was born
in Florida to a mother
addicted to...
10 tags
The Rabbit in the Nighttime: Part 2 by Wesley T....
Rabbit stumbles upon a shallow grave under a willow tree. He pays his respects in the moonlight and picks a bouquet of flowers which he lays in the soft dirt. Rabbit hears a harp playing in the distance, and follows the sound for miles. THe music leads Rabbit to Deaths front door, where he sits on his porch playing the blues. Rose bushes weave around the wrought iron fence that surrounds Deaths...
11 tags
Gently I reached for my shoe... by Theo Camacho
Gently I reached for my shoe
It got suck in a puddle
A puddle of mud
I cried
I wept
I sobbed
For hours
Days
Even weeks passed by.
But it was only yesterday
I lost my shoe in the mud.
It’s been only a day since.
The man lent me a helping hand
in the pouring rain.
I guess it was the first and the last.
I said
Goodbye, Dad.
To This City by Sam Howell
To the ones who have glimpsed this city stripped
down to the urban bones the Eye is blind to,
who launched pentameters and all manner of
pocketsized poetries to prosaic skies,
unrolling a.m. highs across the new river
to the beat readers, late students of Kerouac and Ginsberg,
who saw beauty in booming fields of bleak brick
to the illegally expressed, criminal masterpieces
of the can and mind...
1 by John Daniel Thieme
Distant, in the glow of dust, burning the sweet geometry we have come to learn—come to rely upon— unravels. We forget that we belong to each other, and a kiss is a mere tangent—the few kisses of the moon’s nimble light we thought we felt before an absence. But what we wanted once held us here. In this, we need only to let each other go, let each other learn by going, to let each thing—those...
16 tags
anticipating the fall by Omar Mooro
I crawl across the bridge in a hashish trance. Passed old men selling beans and bread in plastic bowls, under billboards inciting Pepsi drinking and Kentucky chickens. The fog of the city rests like a blanket above the buildings. Horns blare and banners wave from the windows, car windshields painted stripes of red, black and white. Patient fishermen sit on the rails, legs dangling over the...
13 tags
Letter To My Mother (after waiting 2 years) by...
teeth pulled.
need second job.
have to file taxes.
lucien carr is dead.
april had her baby.
marsha says everyone had a baby.
josh is flying to seattle for heroin.
working forty hours.
when did it all get so grown up?
i have a few fish
they still swim.
the city is cold.
it’s often gray for many days.
music makes me laugh.
painkillers louder.
Sordid By Joseph Louis
Perpetual trier
a ghost like pale
urban downpours
and a gulf in purity
A vibrant intellect
a dull beauty
incessant consumer
alcoholic snare
devoid of character
plentiful majesty
a body gripped with aches and pains.
