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"cocteau" poems
"...LIFE IS A HORIZONTAL FALL..." ( Hommage à Jean Cocteau ) "Come. . !" said the poem taking me by the hand & leading me inside my self finding the right words & binding them together so that they became a teardrop that didn't...couldn't fall like a lie that was the only truth.
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Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 12:45 PM UTC
"...LIFE IS A HORIZONTAL FALL..." ( Hommage à Jean Cocteau )
I come face-to-face with my Shadow hungry devouring depraved. The lupine before a full hunter moon bristles. Hot saliva falls from hurtful pointed rows in pearls. This in Goodge Street Station's Underground where a poster promotes The Hunger a page-turner The Clown in Soho: 3 Chocolate Martinis 4 lagers 1 gram of ******* 300 press-ups 7 mile run and 1 sachet of Kamagra … the night begins … I howl with delight - that’s me - cracks open a smile yellow eddies swirl in thrawl to that shadow beast o’ mine. This monstrous I can never satiated be -- a beast to straight jacket under the influence of the waning and waxing moon and on the night of the carmine moon release My phone rings (Excuse me, while I take this). ‘Hello, am I speaking to Ashley?’ ‘Depends on who’s asking,’ I respond licking my lips. ‘You Ashley Chapman?’ I like this kind o’ game. ‘Like I said, who’s asking?’ Frustrated he repeats, ‘Confirm your name.’ I yawn and tell him as savagely as I can: 'No!' Wolves know 'no' to the pack. But as in Beauty and the Beast (the Cocteau 1946 version, of course) beneath that thick molting hair pelt beasts have culture and feelings, too (a lion's heart?) and mostly (occasionally not) given space food The Den a willing mate (or two) we’re okay affectionate dogs. For when all is well with my shadow -- no problem    in peace    in chains 'til the looped moon!
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Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 1:38 PM UTC
My Shadow
stem of orchid jewels hearts white. fronds dangling caressed clouds obscure. Judas gifts wrap kitchen. bromeliad pool & bird chorus, cocteau twins, unwound clock. himalayan surveyor measures watercolour, telescopic insight ginger of blue flowerless season changing, renewed construction seeds bloom, a winter pose. house of possibilities in clear air, away from here barbeque covered, herbs sprout flavour zen stone feature a cat’s new bed
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Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 8:13 AM UTC
Foreground
Pop a few Bukowskis to set the day off right And sip a little Hemingway to keep me feeling bright Smoking on that Ginsberg, mind is opening wide Doing lines of Robert Louis Stevenson, and a Hookah full of Baudelaire Ingesting Kerouac, it feels good I swear Coleridge into my lungs, floating on thick air Shooting up some Burroughs, my literary affair I begin to lose sight of reality, taking some Cocteau Tripping with the Kesey, my life is nearly through A final hit of Huxley as transcendence I try to pursue But old Walt Whitman, is where I say adieu.
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Sep 16, 2013
Sep 16, 2013 at 7:22 PM UTC
The Day I Overdosed
Imagine Jean Cocteau in the lobby holding a torch Imagine a trained dog act, a Rock and Roll Band Imagine I am Curly of the Three Stooges disguised as Wm Shakespeare Imagine that I'm the cousin of the Mayor of New York or the King of Nepal (I didn't say Napoleon!) Imagine what it is like to be in the glare of hot lights when you are longing for dark corners Imagine the Ghost Patrol, the Tribal Orchestra -- Imagine an elephant playing a harmonica or someone weighing out bones on the edge of the desert in Afghanistan Imagine that these poems are recorded moments of temporary sanity Imagine that the clock was just turned back -- or forwards -- a hundred years instead of an hour Let us pretend that we have no place to go, that we are here in the Cosmic Hotel, that our bags are packed & that we have one hour to checkout time Imagine whatever you will but know that it is not imagination but experience which makes poetry, and that behind every image, behind every word there is something I am trying to tell you, something that really happened.
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Apr 17, 2013
Apr 17, 2013 at 4:04 PM UTC
Imagine Jean Cocteau By Ira Cohen
Monica disappeared She told me she might love me I told her where to meet me But when I got there She was gone I had become enraptured By her cherubic face Elfish, tomboy haircut Law-breaking smile I should have known there was something lurking Behind it Some secret or some thing Some One Some dark, ugly lie she’d found herself caught in Fly in a spider’s web, vulnerable But it was easy enough to see She was too hard to let anything hurt her She might as well have hurt me I never told you how Her kisses left me breathless The music of Cocteau Twins came alive In her ethereal expression As our lips reluctantly let go of each other Her sated smile told the story Of happy endings and serendipity The Fates had other plans And maybe she knew it. So somewhere in her heart or her head She had conspired with the Great Unknown To break my heart And so she disappeared. Lost, flawed goddess? The woman kept her fair share of secrets And most likely a greater lot of lies she’d fed me... Cotton candy to a baby Grim acceptance of the brutal reality Brought home by her disappearance And nailed shut by the knowledge That I would never again, in my life, Here and in the Great Beyond, See her face, kiss her lips, relax in her embrace Never again dance to Springsteen’s slow songs,  silently surrendered to sensuality and the staggered stagnation of sense and sensibility and I would drive all night just to buy her some smack…whatever she wanted Hear her voice In this place I will call her “mine” In this place She would confess, "I'm yours" So much like a dream In this place Look into her eyes then Wake Wail and moan for the miles that separated us The sackcloth and ashes well worn in the years since She vanished into thin air She’s as dead as if she’d stopped breathing As if her heart had actually stopped beating. The period for grief and mourning are long past And yet here I lie Overcome by a tsunami
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Sep 17, 2010
Sep 17, 2010 at 7:41 AM UTC
Monica 1987-2010
Monica disappeared She told me she might love me I told her where to meet me But when I got there She was gone I had become enraptured By her cherubic face Elfish, tomboy haircut Law-breaking smile I should have known there was something lurking Behind it Some secret or some thing Some One Some dark, ugly lie she’d found herself caught in Fly in a spider’s web, vulnerable But it was easy enough to see She was too hard to let anything hurt her She might as well have hurt me I never told you how Her kisses left me breathless The music of Cocteau Twins came alive In her ethereal expression As our lips reluctantly let go of each other Her sated smile told the story Of happy endings and serendipity The Fates had other plans And maybe she knew it. So somewhere in her heart or her head She had conspired with the Great Unknown To break my heart And so she disappeared. Lost, flawed goddess? The woman kept her fair share of secrets And most likely a greater lot of lies she’d fed me... Cotton candy to a baby Grim acceptance of the brutal reality Brought home by her disappearance And nailed shut by the knowledge That I would never again, in my life, Here and in the Great Beyond, See her face, kiss her lips, relax in her embrace Never again dance to Springsteen’s slow songs,  silently surrendered to sensuality and the staggered stagnation of sense and sensibility and I would drive all night just to buy her some smack…whatever she wanted Hear her voice In this place I will call her “mine” In this place She would confess, "I'm yours" So much like a dream In this place Look into her eyes then Wake Wail and moan for the miles that separated us The sackcloth and ashes well worn in the years since She vanished into thin air She’s as dead as if she’d stopped breathing As if her heart had actually stopped beating. The period for grief and mourning are long past And yet here I lie Overcome by a tsunami
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58
Hello again, and welcome to tonight’s program A wonderful show it is, for you that is… A beautiful imbalance of provocative wonders Simmered together in an elixir of intoxication The modern day alchemist roams the night for the eyes of sensuality The midnight occupiers of the everlasting void A world you understand but can’t comprehend A life you comprehend but don’t understand The unsaid pleasures of private fantasy The untold fantasy of malevolent pleasures Please come in Don’t be shy We’re all here Waiting for you Yes this way Keep walking till you see the door Yes This is the door The door for you 16 Room 16 It’s unlocked It’s ok Please Walk in This is your door This is your mind This is your door to your mind Room 16 Where were you when you were 16? Do you remember that one night that changed everything? That one girl? That one boy? Finding yourself….did it happen? Did you feel misunderstood? Or Did you misunderstand others? I remember only too well. The stories I faced The ridicule I endured “You need to be punished” said the stepfather-person, “But since you think you are old enough to make your own decisions, here’s one for you. Now it’s either you or your cat. I can either gut you or gut your cat…decide now, Which of you doesn’t get gutted?” I look up at my little cat, squeezed underneath his massive arm I didn’t put it past him that he would hurt me in an unimaginable way I point to myself, saying that I didn’t want to be gutted. “Wow.” The stepfather-person says, “You must not love your own pets. Some person you’ll turn out to be.” He tosses the cat to the ground and leaves to his room. The next day the cat is gone. What cruel manifestations we are of all our sins What dark creatures we are, yet we are terrified of the monsters underneath our bed The monsters in the other room The monster that sits at your dinner table The monster that beats your mother The monster that kicks you into a bookshelf The monster that strangles you The monsters The monsters we all have the potential to become But do we? I’d like to think that some of us can become angels instead Not monster or demons But some do In fact Many of us do Many of us become the monsters we covet. What are you? This has been tonight’s program. We’d like to thank the academy and all who made this possible: Quarters, Jimi Hendrix, Ronald Dahl, Marilynn Monroe, Bret Easten Ellis, watches, Eastern Promises, A history of Violence, Daniel Day Lewis, Rebecca Hall, Cocteau Twins, tomatoes, graphic novels, There will be blood, red gel pens, gold frames and all the little people. Thank you and please visit us again.
0
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 11:45 PM UTC
The Obsidian Theater II: Monsters of the Void
Hello again, and welcome to tonight’s program A wonderful show it is, for you that is… A beautiful imbalance of provocative wonders Simmered together in an elixir of intoxication The modern day alchemist roams the night for the eyes of sensuality The midnight occupiers of the everlasting void A world you understand but can’t comprehend A life you comprehend but don’t understand The unsaid pleasures of private fantasy The untold fantasy of malevolent pleasures Please come in Don’t be shy We’re all here Waiting for you Yes this way Keep walking till you see the door Yes This is the door The door for you 16 Room 16 It’s unlocked It’s ok Please Walk in This is your door This is your mind This is your door to your mind Room 16 Where were you when you were 16? Do you remember that one night that changed everything? That one girl? That one boy? Finding yourself….did it happen? Did you feel misunderstood? Or Did you misunderstand others? I remember only too well. The stories I faced The ridicule I endured “You need to be punished” said the stepfather-person, “But since you think you are old enough to make your own decisions, here’s one for you. Now it’s either you or your cat. I can either gut you or gut your cat…decide now, Which of you doesn’t get gutted?” I look up at my little cat, squeezed underneath his massive arm I didn’t put it past him that he would hurt me in an unimaginable way I point to myself, saying that I didn’t want to be gutted. “Wow.” The stepfather-person says, “You must not love your own pets. Some person you’ll turn out to be.” He tosses the cat to the ground and leaves to his room. The next day the cat is gone. What cruel manifestations we are of all our sins What dark creatures we are, yet we are terrified of the monsters underneath our bed The monsters in the other room The monster that sits at your dinner table The monster that beats your mother The monster that kicks you into a bookshelf The monster that strangles you The monsters The monsters we all have the potential to become But do we? I’d like to think that some of us can become angels instead Not monster or demons But some do In fact Many of us do Many of us become the monsters we covet. What are you? This has been tonight’s program. We’d like to thank the academy and all who made this possible: Quarters, Jimi Hendrix, Ronald Dahl, Marilynn Monroe, Bret Easten Ellis, watches, Eastern Promises, A history of Violence, Daniel Day Lewis, Rebecca Hall, Cocteau Twins, tomatoes, graphic novels, There will be blood, red gel pens, gold frames and all the little people. Thank you and please visit us again.
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66
I argue the point and take a stand.  How is eating food and sliding a fork in and out of your mouth so much different than a kiss?  It is a sensational thing to be fully present for either but if I cannot be kissed I will eat like it is my *** A hard chair.  Sit upright.  Dress right..or undress just right.Heels of course.  No Tv.  NO PC.  Silence or the Cocteau Twins Treasure. Treasure is the third studio album by Scottish alternative rock band Cocteau Twins. It was released on 1 November 1984, through record label 4AD. With this album, the band settled on what would, from then on, be their primary lineup: vocalist Elizabeth Fraser, guitarist Robin Guthrie and bass guitarist Simon Raymonde. The album reached number 29 on the UK Albums Chart, becoming the band's first UK Top 40 album, and charted for 8 weeks.[9] It also became one of the band's most critically successful releases, although the band themselves have expressed dismay at it.  Know your ******* music! Sit proper and nice.  Make a nice table setting-IMPRESS YOURSELF!!!!  I mean **** who is in your mouth??  You have more sensations all over than you use..I might spank you if you do not do a nice setting and snap a photo..you know I want to sea green IT!!! Now take the time to feel the complexity of the flavors built, skill involved-maybe a ******* KILT! Feel the sliding of the FORK IN AND OUT..little strokes in your pout. Let is slide so slowly out..feel the edges..nice and smooth..let it slide feel that tine groove. Chew so succulent and slow..feel the textures and LET THOUGHTS GO Feel the flow, taste everything within it sink below. Belly warm, food is desire..imagination and being present is all that is required~ The best way to treat myself is some fine dining. Living watercress & Italian parsley- balsamic vinegar salad on the side of a tempting dish of white beans with sun dried tomatoes, mushrooms, onions, celery, cilantro,orange peppers and some garlic and chili paste with a lemon slice I ate right away and dashed the whole thing with a drizzle of balsamic. I did not taste test anything. I know what a good balance is. My meal was a 5 star worthy dish. I ate everything on my plate.
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Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 6:29 PM UTC
How is it much different
I argue the point and take a stand.  How is eating food and sliding a fork in and out of your mouth so much different than a kiss?  It is a sensational thing to be fully present for either but if I cannot be kissed I will eat like it is my *** A hard chair.  Sit upright.  Dress right..or undress just right.Heels of course.  No Tv.  NO PC.  Silence or the Cocteau Twins Treasure. Treasure is the third studio album by Scottish alternative rock band Cocteau Twins. It was released on 1 November 1984, through record label 4AD. With this album, the band settled on what would, from then on, be their primary lineup: vocalist Elizabeth Fraser, guitarist Robin Guthrie and bass guitarist Simon Raymonde. The album reached number 29 on the UK Albums Chart, becoming the band's first UK Top 40 album, and charted for 8 weeks.[9] It also became one of the band's most critically successful releases, although the band themselves have expressed dismay at it.  Know your ******* music! Sit proper and nice.  Make a nice table setting-IMPRESS YOURSELF!!!!  I mean **** who is in your mouth??  You have more sensations all over than you use..I might spank you if you do not do a nice setting and snap a photo..you know I want to sea green IT!!! Now take the time to feel the complexity of the flavors built, skill involved-maybe a ******* KILT! Feel the sliding of the FORK IN AND OUT..little strokes in your pout. Let is slide so slowly out..feel the edges..nice and smooth..let it slide feel that tine groove. Chew so succulent and slow..feel the textures and LET THOUGHTS GO Feel the flow, taste everything within it sink below. Belly warm, food is desire..imagination and being present is all that is required~ The best way to treat myself is some fine dining. Living watercress & Italian parsley- balsamic vinegar salad on the side of a tempting dish of white beans with sun dried tomatoes, mushrooms, onions, celery, cilantro,orange peppers and some garlic and chili paste with a lemon slice I ate right away and dashed the whole thing with a drizzle of balsamic. I did not taste test anything. I know what a good balance is. My meal was a 5 star worthy dish. I ate everything on my plate.
Continue reading...
12
LIFE IS A HORIZONTAL FALL ( Hommage à Jean Cocteau ) "Come. . !" said the poem taking me by the hand & leading me inside my self finding the right words & binding them together so that they became a teardrop that didn't...couldn't fall like a lie that was the only truth.
0
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 3:55 PM UTC
LIFE IS A HORIZONTAL FALL ( Hommage à Jean Cocteau )
That June was fatal I was 21and drowning in daze Numb in my cellar cradle To a Cocteau Twins through a midday sparkling haze Scars went down my arms and legs and broken soul Since I walked this self-harm alley Strolling round  maniacally Lifeless mind,numb and cold Pills scattered like a nailbombs Pushed me deep down to a crippled womb Neither Heaven nor Las Vegas But a valley of  fake healers
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Feb 28, 2019
Feb 28, 2019 at 4:31 PM UTC
Pill hill blues