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 Oct 2015 Diane
SG Holter
Mayhem
 Oct 2015 Diane
SG Holter
They've stopped burning churches and
Ramming knives into one another.

Now they visit the woods without corpse
Paint and disposable cameras,

Eating Norwegian mushrooms around
Fires, boomblasters blasting

'De Mysteriis dom Sathanas' out into
Pinetree forests.

Media turned Black Metal into "satanism".
Inspired the weak.

One scratched the back of the other as newspapers
Sold more than ever, and

Small egos acted beyond their sizes, trying and
Dying for coverage.

Sometimes I feel the remains of vikings,
Battle worn and anti-christian still, after death,

Moaning: No. It was never just for
Show.


They've stopped burning churches now.
Perform with unpainted faces.

One final
Protest.

The devil is ink on cheap paper.
Money and newspapers are barely wood.

Some say they burn like old Norwegian churches.
Others just like their music raw and real.
 Oct 2015 Diane
nivek
Shedding todays like a snake sheds its skins
slithering in and out of dreams and nightmares
eyes blue beneath old unwanted yesterdays
I will dance like the Cobra to your flute
and strike and strike until a poets voice sings
heard aloud in the deep depth of Mankind
where a sister and brother may meet equal
in the celestial pureness of forever and ever,
 Oct 2015 Diane
Anna
Untitled
 Oct 2015 Diane
Anna
Be fierce, little firefly and dance around the dust
In honesty- your glowing's ceased, and life is only lust
 Oct 2015 Diane
nivek
this is mine
 Oct 2015 Diane
nivek
you cannot carry around responsibility that is not yours
you would soon buckle under the weight,
and miss the very responsibility allocated to you
 Oct 2015 Diane
nivek
others fear
 Oct 2015 Diane
nivek
just because you fear whatever it is you fear
does not mean what you fear will come to fruition in my life
 Oct 2015 Diane
nivek
Let loose your muse
run amok all over the page
do not try to make sense
rapids or calm pond
its all part of all else
and your muse will love you for it
but hide your muse away
and one day you will forget
where you hid it.
 Oct 2015 Diane
nivek
Until Tomorrow
 Oct 2015 Diane
nivek
Just one more late night film made in Hollywood
a few more deaths and warped happiness
and I will be satisfied until tomorrow.
 Oct 2015 Diane
Dreams of Sepia
Dear Night,
please *******
out of my life
back to your bars,
theatres,
prostitutes
& big neon city lights
don't visit the suburbs
of this small town
where there is
nothing to do
but wait for the dawn
& write
because yeah
I'm even tired of that
old hat trick
& again
there are no stars
in the sky
to comfort my
rickety heart
& no-one on the telephone
& no nightingales
in the garden
I think I am going to have to catch a bus & go into town now or I shall scream because the Suburbs at night drive me insane except say, in the summer...
 Oct 2015 Diane
Nat Lipstadt
~~~

"is it just me?"
this habitual guest,
nay, by now, alien resident,
this panting ponderous puzzlement,
so habitual, it has founded a room of its own
in a secluded space
upon mine own, contested Temple Mount

oft it strolls about the premises of me,
arm-in-arm with his pernicious cousin,
a fellow imploding interrogatory,
"what if?"
these thigh-slapping cacklers both, living off in the hollows
of the doubtful spaces they create,
cozy, corner-bounded criers, walk-abouters in thine recesses hidden

today, just one more inflection point in this man's life,
of which your are a welcomed observer,
and if but ******,
then let it be of thy own self,
for well imagine we, this pesky pairing,
that never venture far or away from their companionship
of any of us
friends of friends

I have no answer for either torturous query,
this answer, unsurprising and well expected,
for these visitors from a planet pernicious,
are astronomer-logged in your own constellation,
the dimmed light they shed, sheds no light at all,
having arrived light years after they were first posed

how can I counsel thee, that their risky business
should be routine dispatched fast away to another galaxy,
for here I am failing and flailing, well into my ending years,
yet waking once more in bed,
with this uncouth pair today,
haunting mine well worn, well trod paths

have you no guidance, no solvable words to defer
the solvable drip of doubt with which they tint our souls?


the only defense I am aware,
is to answer-deflect them with
yet another half-inquiry, half-commandment
that resides in the wellsprings
of thine best, supplanting them,
a goal to be,
by asking a twice-harder supposition

how can I,
this new morning glory, 
this new clean babe borning,
be a better human?

~~~
7:01 AM
October 27, 2015
nyc

just another life altering day.,
then begins with an innocuous coffee-spilling,
and from within its puddle,
this questioning poem
born
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