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Ambita Krkic Jan 2011

by Cezar Ruis Aquino in collaboration with Sooey Valencia

For the longest time I have always thought that the most beautiful thing in the world is a blank page.
Perhaps next to a page where some words, innocent as birds, have found their way to.
joanna dibble Apr 2012
dead summer
sun shines between my bones
long crooked shadows
how long have I sat here?
oaks shade gave way to yellow

oblique rays illuminate
these dessicated sockets
gilded parched pastures
all dew has been up and took
long before I first awoke

autumn crows' appetite
my earthly flesh plucked away
I hear my heartbeat
thump thump as the rabbit runs
knowing winters frosty breath

the rabbit-catcher's campfire
cannot warm shivering bones
under their dry leafy quilt
all desire is quelled . . .
content with malodorous meat

from this hollow frame
my ice-glazed scaffold
coyote steals a femur
it was mine to freely give
suffering it was his to take

my gnawed bleached bones
scattered ,full transformation
predator to prey
play to the nature of things
sea transience by precipitant moon

A collaborative renga written with tsac
DJ Thomas May 2010
Celestial scholars
deliver influencing scripts
days brisk with drumbeats
evenings spilled from riverbanks -
drifts of violet, ripe moons.

A life for living
make creativity your song
let all sorrow go
our tomorrows fade too fast
every moment so precious

Your choices to own
claim to have truly lived
be free like a bird
soar to the highest mountain
feel the breeze beneath your wings

All will surely die
your body is not a chore
the energy life
is eternal, infinite
and clothed in velvet breathing

Life's ageing busy pace
relax -  observe and still time
neither thoughts nor none
hum a song about the stars
or astronomy lessons

Dwell in loving peace
share spiritual sustenance
imperfect mirage—
unbend, barefoot in its shade
languid afternoons, blessings.

Hearing poetry's grace
Echoes that laugh-lust-cry-love
relentlessly true.
Souls rapture joined - bestowed
kiss softly devastating.

A world awakes
in spaces of wonderment.
Slows worries until -
our eyes open: Surprise Splendors
Treating earth like a lover

Refining senses -
resilient beauty touched.

Submit your *2 line 5/7  challenging verses
then your *3 line 5/7/7 answering verses in a 'reaction' please

copyright© 2010 --- a renga written in collaboration with Marsha Singh, Aiden L K Riverstone, eileen ann bridget mcgreevy,  Del Maximo,  Jacqueline Ivascu,  Christopher Terry  Everson & ???
Defrag my System
System error four oh four

Sneaky big brother
coded response - their watching
labels illegal intent

Oh computer
How the virus will take hold

Sitting lethargic
Lacking fresh air and water
Watching colours glow - lost thought

Spaced out, buzzing
Mind becoming digitized*

No sleeping, I click
Electrical whir-static
Of a drug not classified
©Aiden L K Riverstone___Renga collaborated by
David Thomas...Christopher Terry Everson...
M P Hill Jan 2012
With a smile you tell
Me this was part your design
Me love-fettered in my mind

If i crawled out now
Could I bring the memory?
Sprawl it out upon
A table like a bounty
Plundered all for you in dreams

Weigh them on scales
The heavier, dark. The light...
piles divided
I string my favorite memory
wear like a gold crucifix

Tear it off when I
Can't bear the weight or carry
it up Golgotha
Swimming in dreams I observe
Mine own love die martyred death
vircapio gale Oct 2015
perfect sunny day--
insects  sing   so    loud!
as i surf the web

pond water--
my hair dries as i click,
getting hot again

One summer years ago, at my childhood home, in a nudist colony whose so-called 'co-founding' is my family's only legacy--perhaps right before my grandmother had passed, or when my father's prostate was scheduled to be removed and he thought it best to hire someone for a last-minute memory (despite his ***-negative crutch-christianity, just in case the operation cost him his jive)--i googled, '*******,' while looking for ****, and the atrocity i found took all of a second to challenge my complacent illusion that i could remain separate or disconnected from the global oppression of women and girls while i consumed the products (i.e., fantasized about having *** with and/or 'making love' to simulacra-women; masturbated to pictures of them) of an industry whose widespread lack of any substantial commitment to fairness, safety, legal recourse and work-place equality has contributed to a new generational acceptance of the ancient memes that perpetuate bigotry:

dismembered girl
on an open body-bag--
why does this exist??

the insects clacking,
droning in the grass--
summer can't hide death

her hip bones' marrow showing,
young *******'s corpse--

her legs gone--
the image chokes me
from speaking

my sisters, too young to tell--
who do i tell?
why should i tell?

i read she'd run from her ****--
they put her in the river.

young girl,
her blood still--
i can't feel my heartbeat

young woman,
her torso bare--
unfeeling stumps

young woman,
her legs gone,
skin gray from the river

young woman,
your legs gone--
i choke  on words

please don't infer any absolute moral judgments here; or absolute relativism; i am questioning harmfulness and interconnectedness.

this experience is from an article i glanced long ago, long enough to leave an indelible pain beyond the mercilessly visceral impact of the image; there is a continuous undercurrent of suffering, accessible each time "feminism" is sneered at or when one wave over another is dismissed outright.

i could never share the article... i felt shame for finding it while searching for **** (which is a sharp irony not lost to me or the puritan in the room); i felt a fear of ruining someone's day, someone's image of me, or the cliche ignorance that seems so essential to happiness; inducing yet additional needless fear in young minds already inflicted with an unfair burden of anxieties seemed pointless if not harmful as well, as if sharing such 'hateful' realities could empower the very organizations that employ these techniques to punish recalcitrance and spread fear (which some may say i'm doing here, though my intention is to overcome fear-induced silence... although i can't imagine sharing the image itself) ... i hadn't realized until recently that i'd also been succumbing to my own fear by projecting it onto others.

these problems are systemic and solutions are manifesting everywhere. future pain is avoidable in the context of education, courageous dialogue, and the kind of love that inspires, liberates and goes to any lengths to understand and empathize.
M P Hill Jan 2012

Bells toll with stoic
irony while I’m told this:
“it’s not beautiful,
a day missed questioning life”
under shadow of chapels

“Day lost searching tombs
fair yet if answers abound”
treasures never found
persistence ever onward
reflection's answer. "ripples"

Smiling cornered rat
Tail in the jaws of life
clamping down shut fast.
All thoughts tones ripple outward
tones with no reason, no rhyme.
See if you can guess who did what!
JLB Mar 2012
Underneath our masks
we paint our faces too pale;
Fraudulent smiles
Only must we wear in this play?
Tragedy makes the inks run

Audience sobs too,
yet we are too numb to vex;
Merely convincing
Plot: ignore true emotion
Please enjoy our props

amusement at its finest;
Ready made to sell
Come one, come all and feel
Masques and poems enhance the play

Scripts all written by
poets, Saints and Prodigies;
Artless art makers
Publish our dear Mother Earth
Her manuscript grows everyday

Their realities
denied with good intentions;
So that we may live
A life of meaning and play
In a world of vast settings
Emelia Ruth Mar 2013
An October night
of 1823 in
a town of England

In the darkness of ev’ning
a man was hit with a pipe.

He was dragged away,
to a shack far from the town
to meet his vermis.

The man laid on a table
with ankles and wrists strangled.

Slowly, he awoke
frightened that the room was not
the one he dozed in.

“Where am I?” he asked confused
by ev’rything around him.

“Somewhere,” came a smooth
voice from the shadows behind
a large contraption.

A trail of gears showed the path
towards the straps on his limbs.

The voice spoke again,
“Do you know Miss Dianna?
Do not lie, Gustav.”

Gustav recognized the voice,
he replied nervously, “No.”

The machine started
pulling slowly on his limbs.
“Ah! Okay, yes, yes!”

The clicking of the gears slowed
but the straps still tugged his limbs.

“What did I tell you?”
the voice mockingly asked him.
“Who is she, to you?”

“I-umm,” The straps pulled again.
“I won’t be patient Gustav.”

“Ok! She was a
beautiful woman, that I
had an affair with.”

The ropes did not stop, the voice
said, “The truth can be painful.”

Gustav’s body ached,
his arms and legs began to
pull from their sockets.

“I believe this is yours,” and
across the floor, slid a watch.

It was pure gold. “ I
found it in my bed, with my
*****, ******, dead wife!"

Before he was torn apart
Gustav uttered, “She liked it.”
This was a collaboration between my friend Max and I for a class assignment. It used the Renga format (I rarely use format, as you probably have noticed) which is haiku (5,7,5) and couplet (7,7).
Two ton hammer struck
Fracturing my cranium* [alkr]

Releasing my dreams
Never tasted brains before
Unknowingly, Briny Blooded* [dm]

Floating looking down
Misshapen I gaze back up

Not a dreaded sound to be heard
Not even a feared sight

Swirling colours feast
joining - transcending yellow

Eyes wide shut, closing
Standing still while the world moves
Safely around the mountain

Sided coin flip, Fate
Judgment Day will serve with haste
©Aiden L K Riverstone//Renga collaborated by Del Maximo, David Thomas__________________

— The End —