Tuesday, May 17, 2022

Michael H. Brownstein - A LANGUAGE OF SILENCE

--because of Sandeeo Permar, Sylvia Plath, Dorothea Lasky, Sharon Olds, and too many we wanted to be mothers

this was supposed to be

but

not this silence:

yes, this was supposed to be

instead, a silence--

not a sign of warning
not a sign of breath
not a sign of anything

supposed to be

but 

only silence


DO NOT IGNORE THE SUN

to not wake up
to not see the mansions made of skin
the root of bone
the splashes of gum disease across graffiti littered lawns

a flux of heat
blisters and blistered lips
tongues swollen into heavy shipyard knots
scurvy and bacteria laden lemonade

a sudden loss of oxygen
felt paper and cellophane 
sweat and spit
an inability to scream

muscular turbulence
tendonitis 
a loss of self confidence
brain waves thin as spider venom and the hollowing of a fly


Levidrome 

(originally published in Moss Trill)

In the aftermath
of aftermaths
there came a man of math
who knew after-maths

shtam-retfa wenk oho
htam fo nam a emac ereht
shtamertfa fo
htamertfa eht ni

and so it went
dog begot god
god begat dog

looped pool-ed
level reap level pear

ton of (k)not(s)
was (a) saw
and so it is

htam retfa emac ohw
nam a saw ereht tub
htamertfa rehtona ton saw ereht
htamertfa eht fo gninrom eht ni

in the morning of the aftermath
there was not another aftermath
but there was a man 
who came after math


 

Tuesday, May 10, 2022

Jim Meirose - Daytime Star? Daytime Star

A rage abreacted muscular, ok, big ire-banded quack banger ol' bins side thug utility trailer, walked worn grass tailers, place we circus tent would go up. 

Wide smile ay sea face, as walked past bp ores going up. 

Ph.

Ello!

Nodded, smiled, greeted each passing stag; clear voice, aid, open face, read edge—huge yellow tent. Ying spread ground, spoke installed white short side.

Rage Friendly swung quack banger up. Stake wit crack. Quack banger swung.   

Was 'n friend?

Friend. 

Gosh Ollie.

Tuesday, May 3, 2022

Geoffrey Heptonstall - Two Poems

 1. HOMEWARD WE REMEMBER



                                              OTHER LIVES ARE 


out there when we are seeking 

 

WORDS UNWRITTEN     

                                                          

that                                                    may serve to remind readers                                                         of the future.

                                                                                    In other words we may speak 

                                  of picturing the world

                                           in plain sight.


In cool air

Memory speaks

Among the memorials

When spirits rise


the cattle move toward fresh pasture. 

They take their time in diverse tongues before an indifferent world. Something happened here. A voice was heard. In the murmuring of the tomb land came the calming words in anguish against invidia of the hearing denied. 


‘I will be heard.’ is softly spoken. After Babel there is more to be said.


READING IS REMEMBERING                                           lament may come readily to mind

                                                as homeward we think of things.                               WHEN WE IMAGINE THE FALL,

                                                               We had been talking                                                  of that untimely moment

                                                                                                 of the style and the man.                                            WE NAME AS NEVERMORE..

                                                                             His reading of life was restless, heroic,                     so with her otherness, 

                                                                                                     an aesthetic of action.                                                Chatelaine of this fabled world,

                                                                                      writing for her

                                was a prelude to combat…                            

                                            Her song was stilled

when the hope against oblivion.                                                                                                                   accepted  darkness…




OTHER LIVES ARE WORDS UNWRITTEN. READING IS REMEMBERING WHEN WE IMAGINE THE FALL WE NAME AS NEVERMORE






***

2. THE DOG THAT HOWLED ALL NIGHT


What does not change is the will to change Charles Olson




Of a possible election:                                                                      


then in the sight of darkness                                                                          a lantern light

moving to close of day                                                             above all the armadillos                                                                                     


from the vantage tower                                                                        in celestial time chiming…


Of the harvest angel

                                                                                                  scattering our marvels 

at the sight of disaster                                        naming where the stones                                                                                                                                   


keep silence on vacant ground  


when fate may seem indifferent                         though this life is familiar…


Of a lyrical persuasion:                       

invisible in the ruins                                           

too late to save the spirit                                              

that blessed the city opening


to the world’s worst


And in there hearing the dog that howled all night…