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Connor Jul 2016
And it's difficult to remember something as the very name of Eisenhower
Or flowerbaskets
And tired movies made of silicone and
Aftersex
Or sixteen candles echoing out of an imaginary suite with cigarettes at every table
And green lawns
Barbershop conversation
The reflection of the sun in special trees
Or my best friend Jesus Christ
Or the smell of the theater that one day with the cynics who just got back from a tennis match and barbwire still laced delicately around their thoughts and
Nihilism
And automotives
And priestess Jane or Henry's gloomy doppelganger who reads alternative magazines and loves the aesthetics behind broken glass
And fine tuned musical instruments

It's difficult to remember
Lonesome Fridays smoking on a park bench trying to finish the puzzle
Or synagogues you've never been in
Or insurance
Or newspaper articles detailing the misadventures of Mr. City
(Of course of course! Take your shoes off at the door and make yourself at home)
We're tossing all our sewage into the ocean
that's far from clean as it
LOOKS anymore these days
That's anything
And everything except for the glowing mountains seen faded and wintry behind Apartments and the
"Glorious Mexican House of Spices"
Never been in there either

It's difficult to remember
Times of Mr Twin Sister
Or Joan Jett in the hallway
In a highschool who's psychology classrooms have become a time capsule in the ground/
Or the gentle skinny ******
Wearing Broadway makeup and
Kafka tattooed on his shoulder
I like his hat
He looks at me suspiciously
Or the guy who is yelling his order at the counter when it's quiet here anyways
Or the mariner who has a hobby of the saxophone
Or 1970s *******
Or the sheepskin bikeseat fad that's yet to come but I'm predicting it now!
Or two dollars and twentyseven cents at the beginning of Allen Ginsberg's America
"I've given you all and now I'm nothing"

It's difficult to remember
The Oriental
Sacramento flies
Midnight Moon
Quarter to four
"The Immortalization Commission"
Remodelled hotels downtown
Where mandalas on the floor became a
Tiger lily luminous
And the kimono is yesterday's painting/
Dearest Darling
When I was feeling down!
A staircase in reverse (??)
The sound a kiss makes
It's difficult to remember
Colleen's earrings
Or Washington State
Or air conditioners in Bali
The Indian ocean's daybreak hymn
To Seminyak
Or whatever happened to Steve from the Airplane out of Taiwan
On 3 days awake
Hello Kitty nursing stations
****** (Kubrick's version)
Cardboard taking up half my bedroom
It's difficult to remember until I jot it down and then its a sudden forever
Sunshine Superman in a cafe spontaneous
drawings with someone I just met who has some ******* attitude/
Who hops fences and has feral ideas
People! En Masse! Te Amo!
You're all in wolven liberty
And vague postulators
And holy prostitutes for the dollar
Sad eyed intellectuals
With undergarments made of breakfast cereal/
Seaferry poetry is different from
Trestle in August poetry
Or henna handshakes
Or the Napoleonic era
Sweet Cherry Pie
The tulip's tongue
Garabajal
Cloudy first day of July
Was hotter yesterday
But not too hot

It's difficult to remember
Antiquity
The pale horse Studebaker outside the clinic
With a glossy red trim and **** I wish that was my ride
Andy Warhol's exploding plastic inevitable
Nearsightedness
Angels and their ability to shower with a a snap of their fingers
Distant harp music
Better him than me
Bananas almost ripe
Green aquatic
Reclusive junkies
Palomo's appliances
Questions for the next time
How much I like what you like and how I like that you like what I like
Ahh that's not my bus
I'm trying to get to the city!
That one quote Socrates is known for about knowing nothing as true wisdom
Supermarkets being built on top of liquor stores burned down a while back
Monopolies
Tragedies
"No Love Lost"
THE HOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL
Your guess is as good as mine
Never tried to eat Asian food in Asia
It was all pasta and good cider that tasted like pineapple
Rain hitting the window and I'm
Drowsy again
God Save The Trees!
Curly hair looks good on boys
Torn up blinds
Queer as a three dollar bill
If Bill costs 3 dollars I'm sure he's caught something better safe than sorry
Sage advice
I'm the very model of a modern major general
Golden yen and international currency
Incense in the bedroom and how good it smells
There's my bus! Applying for a better job than the one I got now
But that's how it always is right?
Chasing satisfaction
1007 apt
Porch ornaments
Unique names
Unique style le style
The extra charge on foreign ATMs
Cordoroy polo shirts
Flooding in New York!
When someone's face screams *******
"Slippery when wet"
Dine N Dash
Grass gone yellow
Confidence in dyed hair and capes as long as wedding gowns
But less expensive
Doors that always seem to be locked and I'm wondering 20 year later what's behind them?
Albino animals
White thoughts as clouds or
Abstractions
Weathers nicer in Florida but who cares
Festivities this early in the day
Automatopeia
Do sad orphanages still exist?
Just like the movies
Midnight in mirrors
That sick puppet at the shoe shop used
To know how to really hammer it down
And now he's weak and forgotten
Never heard the words of a true prophet only Oceania
Or the private temple near Apollo Bay
Like Japanese gardens behind that gate
Will I ever see it
Make a proud example outta ya misbehavior
Form without function
Exhausted spiritualism
*** Kettle Black
negative photographs of dark rooms
And there's laughing coming from SOMEWHERE
Essays on kleptomania
Had a bad dream I became a cliche
Surrounded by other freaks and there was a lovely ***** I fell in love with her
We married in Oregon by the sea her name was rosy
***** rosy
Check your mailbox for nails
And what you don't wanna hear/
If you were a vegetable you'd be organic!
Empire
Satirical bubble gum
Satori
Linda Lovelace and her special party trick
That's someone's fantasy
Diamond in the rough
Mister guy with two black eyes frequents the adult playhouse
Hes fully stocked on fishnet leggings
He's too proud to put them on himself but
Has nobody else around
Boo hoo
Swigs back the whiskey and trips down the stairs getting a third black eye in the process
Marion came by with her dog the other day
Wanted her box of clothes back but he loved to sniff them to remember her
But she wouldn't have it

"Honey I'm going to call the police!"

"Ah they don't give a **** they have bigger things to worry about"

"Yeah you got that right shrimp **** enjoy my unwashed *******"

And she never came back again
He started losing the vertebrae in his spine 1 by 1 and you know where this is going
I won't say he was a poor man because he had it all coming to him the *******
But he coulda had a better start if you ask me.

It's difficult to remember
And even more difficult to forget
After the fact

Seagull opera
Giganticism
Portrait of the artist as a young man
Losing one's pencil when the best idea of your life drops down from heaven and into your sorry head
Signs graffitied to have funnier meanings
Cruelty
Impassive
The Loyal Lioness
And Bangladesh has too many kitchens
And not enough dishes
When I was young I used to say Island as "is-land"  
Which is true it is land
But the Europeans probably stole it from somebody else anyways/
I left my future behind
And objects in the mirror are closer than they appear
Im no illusionist
I'm terrified of the cracken
Father feels the same way about
Hotels
Why bother/
This has been going on and on for a while are you tired yet
Is your patience being tested
Mine isn't because this wasn't an all-at-once kind of rambling
It's extremely important to laugh at least
Once a day
Otherwise you'll find yourself a politician
In no time at all
Rockefeller
(         ) Quaint home to die in
I think
Trains create great music
Float on
Sink into yourself
Roses in a crooked alley
That's people
Busy busy busy busy
Let's describe a situationist
I'm not a fan of bright colors on clothes
Your best shade is blue
Bricklayers transcription of Don Quixote to a skyscraper
Rocket thyme
& Garden
Erratic children's
Insomnia
The doorbell repeatedly
Vancouver riots/ I saw that live on the news!
Pictionary with the surrealists
N Dada TV set MC Escher
Antenna
You're in the Twilight Zone now
Dear Ramona
I'm trying to make it up to you
With a brightness only seen when you're ready to see it so please for the love of God don't blame me when it's not appearing
The tapestry hidden
Keep your blankets clean
And avoid hospitals unless you're fine with fishbowls & the halogen
The water gestapo
Storage lockers full of unacted plays and
Antique microwaves
Emitting the nostalgia of the cold war era
And what a waste of time that was /
Walter Wanderleys presence in Autumn universities
The opening of Vivre sa Vie
Salvador Dali's pluvial taxi
Lightbulb epiphanies
Aquariums and their protestors
Zebras in the shade
Two wrongs dont make a right
Elizabethan theater
Saloon shootouts in a fever dream
I lost and bled out all over the rustic wooden floor
A maiden reached out for me and El Paso did play I woke up and pretended nothing happened/
Funerals for bad People who did bad things
My first memory of a cat beneath the mattress
Hello Dolly!
Auditory learning
Psychotherapy
Lillian the landlady lost her ladle and labeled little Lyle as a lair
The Black panther movement
Reading symposium some years ago and
Making note that Phaedo was still my favorite dialogue/
Zen Buddhism
Xoxo xoxo
The day Gypsies were replaced with
Surface ****** appetite
And not the real thing
Newspaper clippings
Hypnotism when all other options are out
Mystical visions of sidewalks
And the love of your life stepping through a door you've never seen
Maybe Yes No I Don't Know
Creature comforts
Che Guevara's problem is that his beard made him too easy to recognize
(Also that little hat!)
Chinese cough medicine didn't work
For long I still wheeze sometimes
Domestic violence thru the wall
Ceiling fan probably doesn't even work!
Dimpled laughter
Yankee Hotel Foxtrot
In skytrains to Commercial
Bermuda in her mind
And courtesy in her voice
I'm no Arthur Rimbaud
But you already knew that
Alcazar of Seville
Filling up the shipbottle
Here's your paradise
Now relinquish it as it is
False!
Hare Krishna
Nowhere Fast
El Diablo and the
Portofino loaf left rotting on the countertop
Latin children speak of the sacred viper
You'll hear of it after this but we'll never see what the ******* meant
Heads alternating round the social current
Of my lively city
There's a dog soaking up the rain
And songs are made in honor of
Recent catastrophes
Trials are dealt
Cards cast to the gutter
New York quiets down for the news of another war
You scratch my back I'll scratch yours
Skeleton key
Ballad of the last wailing zoo
THE ATRIUM
Complexity in simplicity
That's how Brainard got me!
Elderly overcoats
Hiding purest LSD
Is a fan of Hawaiian T shirts
And a communist
What if I was a Freemason
Or owned a tanning salon
Faint crimson
What did Marv look like again?
"You're surrounded by people who love you"
Coffee when one needs it
GOODBYE BLUE MONDAY
Tattoos on the wandering man
Oriental chimes and the people who own them
Bus stop regulars
Vines overtaking power lines
The hypnogogic state
Strawberry light softening
The mind
Sister Ray LOUDLY PROCLAIMING
doitdoitdoitdoit
Passing the graffiti n Pluto neon
Halal wide awake another Saturday
Where's the Karaoke
Flashing by here
Those who find comfort in a bridal scavenger hunt
Or expensive beer
And here comes the hooded clown
Clamoring about his favorite
Loudspeaker
Telling me my time is soon and the noise
Drowns out the drowsy bliss
After hour spirits the perfect time for
Writing and trying to read distant Chinese
Indecision on the tip of the tongue
"NOW WHO IS THAT KNOCKING
ON THE CHAMBER DOOR?
COULD IT BE THE POLICE?"

I'm completely off the topic
And into Apartment lobby photosets
Low battery phone calls
Confessions
Nauseated reverb
Trying to see the attachment people got with bingo halls
And moving companies
Ah no luck again
Eve is at it with her showtunes
Halfway methodology
Triage
Paisley headbands left
Distraught on the quivering
Heater
Dwindling sunsets
We're truly disciples of the moon spirit which grants us more energy
(This is according to a drunk I met one night)
Or ***** old men
When the horizon is engulfed with
A winking cinder
Suitcase at the door
Last time
First time
Magician never reveals his fetishes
(They all have to do with bags under your eyes)
Employment office dramas of my friend the one who blinded a social worker
And the one who blamed Islam
And the one whos philosophy entirely consisted of Spooky Action at a
                                            DISTANCE
Parisian riots
Queer youth
Didn't make the team! Jester
'cross the hall who's beard suggests
Ishmeal n car battery n expired vegetables n rain which crosses the line n
***** cranberry n
Poorly fitted suits n
Harsh pigment n incense shops n
Bocca     secret towns
With churches more beautiful than any you'd find in your own city
n the cultural market
Xylophone ear to ear
Soul cleansing starting at only
$89 (with a 6 month guarantee)
Sophie's birthday and her picnic at Victory Park
The nearby bums trying to sell tea mugs and
Loose wires beside gated convenience stores
I'm an Island away attempting a poem
And never bought a scratch n win
Or heard the same song more than seven times in a row or been in a column
Or escaped the washhouse
Invested in a birdcage for next year
Been to a palm reading
Visited Oasis
Smoked salmon
Told anyone else about Montana
Screamed the things I'd like to scream
** Word of the day
Or kissed a lunatic or swallowed the corpse of yesterday
I keep her on my neck until
I'm too anxious to let go
Counting streetlights
Jeans worn in and faded to be sent off to
A lonely caffeine addict
Christmas Eve I'll be reading a postcard from San Francisco
Asking the same questions
My imagination is made of a different material than last week
Now it's the same color as your hair
HEY that's a good pickup line to use in the heart of the Canadian Embassy
Drinking discarded music resembling a sweater you may have said YES to if it wasn't so unsure of itself
And now Mr. Acker Bilk ascends thru the window of an August home
Like a lazy hornet
I'm still lost without identification
Or a nice belt
As happens when one uses a quality item too casually
How did uphill suddenly seem so downhill?
I'll claim a waterfall
For SALE that inevitable Indonesia
Greyhound O another greyhound O another greyhound
I'm fretting too much about not enough
Delayed the Airport and the yellow question

????

II

What if I knew how to read the curb?
Or translate drunken droll
What if I was never tired again and could
REALLY do anything I set my mind to?
What if I was the first cigarette that cured cancer instead of caused it?
What if I could end superstition
And walk underneath any ladder I wanted?
What if I could make it with a young Audrey Hepburn!?
What if I stopped pretending to be a microphone and got on with "it"
What if the grocery store closed later
And I opened earlier?
What if parking lots werent so sad
All the time?
What if gravity simply had enough of exotic birds and specifics?
What if we stopped trying to recreate what is truly lost?
What if foreign children embraced
Wasting time instead of
Midnight starry bicycles
And the antics of a monk
Disguised as a romantic?

There are those that worship God
And those who worship the Sun
And those who worship nothing at all
But I suppose on the last bus
We're all the same exhausted
Voice who can't wait for next pay day
What is an empty bank?
Or authenticity
What is there to prove anymore?
I hope I don't die tonight and regret
Being impulsive for once
You're a smart shadow
And a dull character
Pushing the last of the daisies
Get the lamp to turn on again
Give the pavement something to look forward to with your walk
Be consistent in being inconsistent
If there's a word there's a ***** and a poem for it!
We all oughta worship
Nothing at all except
Clarity
Compassion with ones neighbor who either forgot the pay the electricity bill or couldn't afford to
We're a swimmin
Written between late June to July 13th.
Aurora Feb 2020
R.J Calzonetti


Screaming cross the skyscraper’s windbreaker tapering

Aether vapour- trailblazing ****-sapien wafers

Of machinations psychotropic doppelgängers

Aristotle throttling menagerie’s philosophically hypnotic obelisks

Mind-boggling astronomical chronological esophagus

Antioxidants phosphorus catastrophic mitochondria

Beyond anaconda onomatopoeia

Of hallucinogenic Armageddon biblical umbilical cords

Swarming northern lights of aurora borealis

The chalice a battleground of Evangelion belladonna

Metalica candelabra swallowing the monochrome Hanukkah

Of a cold winter’s eldritch disintegration photosynthesis

Of innocent infinity stretching wretched beckoning requiem

The words that fall upon my page, are really just a shallow grave

Of the dawn of nighttime in my eyes, calm upon the twilight sun

Wrong is done draped on the blood moon wraiths

Skyscraped fields dusk a hollow thud below the dunes

That thumps the consumption of our fate, fumes to glow in darkness loom

Left blind in light of day you cannot see, the little pieces silver sheen

For blinding light may fade to grey, and I will never have my way

Nightfalls on another daybreak, dawning darkness, sundown on another day

Twilight plays with sparkling haze, the sky a wildfire made ablaze in patchwork scarecrows

Who etch rainbows black as a heart of coal, sold flatlining railroads

Gold wraithlike halos of stained-glass cathedrals unreal in the fever-dream of human beings

Bleeding Elysium from the seabed of dead worlds, gourds of incorporeal cornucopias

Born orchestra morsels of sorrowful oracles predicting crucifixion of ellipsis’ antithesis


(MC) Aurora


Absonant  as my pen writes the twilight, the red swallowed on horizon and bright

As through a sea of blood under my feet and shrinking mast of my mighty ship

A shadow I make on that red snow and peep into my heart’s hollow

It’s deep as much as my pen spake of grief.

I blinded in that last light and hurled like a beast dreading the songs of holy lies

That have just pained in bright and made me grieve.

They dragged me on my wings and deplumate  me as so fallen humans

They wrenched my limbs and rive my heart out and flinger me in air and I laid forever

On the stones that dank my blood.

I wait for the troth  of  demise but betrayed as it didn’t come to detract,

I laid when the horizon grinned red on my face and poured the last ale

And brutally drank the last sip of me.



R.J Calzonetti


People are sleeping under the blankets of a tranquil streetlamp

A sunflower in the damp bed of concrete

Soon they’ll be pushing up daisies

Underneath the foundation of what I stand for

Nip the bud of the flower pedalling the root of all evil like fallen leaves

Breeding paraplegic freedom from the pollen melancholic

Anarchistic polycrystalline shapeshifters drifting vilified

Buried alive like asphalt constellations crowning metallic gallows alcoholic in my solitude

See the clouds bury the ground in half a heaven’s heartbeat

Limbo’s limitless abyss the photosynthesis of the sepulchral diablo

Revenants of redemption dancing with death

Evanescent in its bioluminescent crescent moon spooning illuminated illustrations

Of Himalayan mayhem cremated avarice of ethereal onomatopoeia unravelling catacombs in God’s palindromes

Homeopathic saplings decapitated in the dismembered September wastelands defibrillator

Invigorating the nightshade white wraiths plane-walkers of Apocrypha documenting entropy

Pent up sentience avenging the endless demigods of discombobulated proclamations nocturne graceless, octaves eldritch, evangelic

Elegant elevators to flights of staircases where the air is fragrant with the fragments of stagnant stained glass asterisks

Written gospels to masquerade hostage to the faith the man misplaced the sacred hate, the passageways of apathy apostrophe

Apartheid of serpentine survivors carving smiles on the sidewalks

Farming diamonds and their detox

Arming giants like a phoenix

Carnal nihilists with their secrets

Stardust quiet as the bleachers

Start defiant still a reject

Art discipled to our freedom

Shattered hearts pick up the pieces

Jigsaw puzzles, smothered treasons

Sow the seeds and **** the reaper

Even legions rhyme and reason

Tattered flags without a penance

Good men do not go to heaven

Buy your burden at 7-11

Your exit is the only the next entrance

Resurrection prepubescent

Asymmetric biomechanics

Anguish to be reprimanded

Megalomaniac in our sabbath

Living life is just a sentence

Psalms of seance death’s senescence

Baptize vengeance lest it ventures into heaven

Ventriloquist omniscience of rhythmic equilibrium

Earthly hurricanes reemerging insurgent as the sugarcane purgatory

Primordials metamorphosis contorting rigour Mortis oracles horoscope cloaked in cloaca hallucinations

Induced irradiated amalgamated retaliatory incorporeal chlorophyll

Born from the sorcerers' spell, the cathedral of doubt

The only darkness is within oneself, light shed within a holy shell

Isolation is a lonely hell, scythes of moonlight blight of bells

Nightingales fail to halo word of mouth

Enveloped in the clouds cast shadows hex

But resurrection cannot hide from the eyes of death

Fresh as babies breath

Rank as the body festers effigies

Bless the Nephilim the questions beck

And call for some god to collect the rest

Is there any answer?

Even growth can be a cancer

Lifeless corpses once were dancers

Devils waltz on top of canopies

Heaven’s hands have touched serenity

****** brands that crushed His enemies

Stained glass sanguine dismantled entropy

Calamity ran dry insanity dabbling in humanity

Unravelling the candy wrapper saplings of happiness

Pitch black irradiant dull edges sharpening archangels, darkness reincarnating

Blinding bioluminescent glistening abyssal rakshasa sarcophagus parting monarchies

Metamorphosis coruscating fornication immortalization Tartarean

Reverberating ****-sapien scintillating hurricanes palpitation circulating ricocheting oblivion

Shining crepuscular homunculus dully illustrious

Sunless avatars, mannequins of Abaddon stygian as fallen leaves on the breeze of Avalon Evangelion

Incarceration breeding Elysium’s jailors in the cathedral of double helixes

Bethlehem's’ new genesis of Lucifer’s crucifixion

Brighter than a fallen star

Mourning in the dark

Doppelganger apostles night stalkers of phosphorous

Pockmarked arcanum bloodstained in gravestone Salem

Where the braves’ halos dined on maelstroms alone

Heirs succeeding failures of the empty throne

Filled with nothings’ own

Brimming bound by Babylonian poems

Deus ex Machina's apocalypse coughing prophets of Samsara blossoming diabolic

Life is but a Holocaust

Death the moment God forgot

Breath the only psalm we sought

Kept within a hollow box

Shedding devils, angelic, lost

Finding metamorphosis


(MC) Aurora


A world often synonymous with beauty on the horizon,

Meet my eyes you mourned demon load the strength on thee.

Crestfallen light on your wrist burns down your girth

And you can plead, just plead your twilight sun.

Watch the dead sea swallow you in the salts of agony

And drown in the anguish, hundreds of angelic bloodsheds,

Press hold of the thumbprints on your throat, you can't roar.

Sore lugubrious melancholy aired atmosphere,

And downhearted souls dispirited dragons dragged along.

The sob grim hiding in a blue funk rusty smog choking wind,

The nyctophilliac animals howl long the cold-blooded love song

In your lungs and burn.

It's the twilight sun,

Just that twilight sun.
By Aurora & R.J.Calzonetti
I am Immortal with every perfect verse,
You see me dropping these bombs with ever word I plop.
I'm a singer without the song, and here comes the chorus,

My words live on, bring it on,
Upon the stars I wished for a better day,
And it'll come when I'm gone, when someone discovers,
The feeling, the heart, of my games.

And oh! if I could show the ladies these poems,
Without choking up in fear of their reactions,
My true emotions, my real me, my being,
Then maybe I'd've found one who wouldn't of laughed,
and maybe we'd be immortal.

My words live on, bring it on,
Upon the stars I wished for a better day,
And it'll come when I'm gone, when someone discovers,
The feeling, the heart, of my games.

Go to hell, I'll see you there, I'm the boss, welcome my direction,
I'm working the angles you ain't seein, sometimes many, sometimes none, but I keep on working, keep on tinkerin' till I find the perfect immortalization of a young son looking for the one, anyone.

My words live on, bring it on,
Upon the stars I wished for a better day,
And it'll come when I'm gone, when someone discovers,
The feeling, the heart, of my games.

Let's go, I know you've put up with a lot, but I promise, you won't have to listen to me talk much longer, cuz my time is almost done. And I don't have the time for structure or rhyme, just listen to my base. I'ma be dead before you read this, till the next time you do, when I come to life again, I ain't never gonna see you, nor you me, but you know me better than anyone, and when your grand kids read this in their books... they'll know. I'm immortal.

My words live on, bring it on,
Upon the stars I wished for a better day,
And it'll come when I'm gone, when someone discovers,
The feeling, the heart, of my games.
I'm just having fun with this one, experimenting. So take it or leave it :))
Q Mar 2013
-The stars in the sky have done nothing,
-Nothing, I think, to deserve their immortalization in verse
-They are the gas lamps still burning
-From the Universe’s Victorian Anglophile phase
-Old lights we haven’t looked at long enough
-To make them fade away

-The stars are dull and distant
-And yellowed with age
-When you step out to confide in them
-On a clear Winter’s night
-And instead find yourself starstruck
-To be surrounded by shattered sky
-Collapsed at your feet and dazzling only for you
-And the deer
-Picking through this fallen snow
-In quiet meditation

-Maybe the snow dazzles only for them
-It knows your heart looks skyward
(10/24/12)
Kim May 2017
I want to paint the colours of the rainbow on everything I see
I want to splash the light frothy foam of my less-than-awesome cappuccino onto this page
I want these black, white, and grey squiggly lines to capture the moments that make my days

All the heavy thoughts and deep emotion poured out and catalogued through the ages
The stories of our greatest, deepest, and weakest selves
The highs, the lows, the darkest, the brightest times
Odes to lost love, songs of beauty,
Essays on the human condition -
All worthy subjects for immortalization

But I'd like to save a little corner of the page for -
My daily fights with that abrasive flaming-red outdated alarm clock
The late afternoon sun filtering through the slats on the early twentieth-century windows in the stairwell of my office building
The discarded spider web hanging forlornly from the hardback Oxford dictionary in the bottommost corner of my bookshelf
The rusted signage on the dilapidated building on the corner, that was once a hub of commerce in this ever changing, ever constant, city by the sea
One of these days what was by the sea may become​ part of it;

I want to remember what once was -
Not because of its aspirations to grandeur, or the many, varied battles fought over it;
It is not always attractive or easy to love, it is often old, tired, confused, even ******, in the evening lights that misunderstand its cracks and crevices
But it has stood here, and drowned here in the deluge of hungry people and high tides and poor drainage and unrepentant rains and it has survived and thrived and been home to so many millions and saviour to so many more
And I am loath to let its inheritance fade and fall into the abyss of forgotten things..
Mica Kluge Mar 2016
It was during a spring rain that
I finally understood my desperate
Obsession with poetry.
With writing.
With why I write.
It was in the silence,
In the drawn breath between the
Impact of the first raindrop and
The shattering of the second
That I remembered something
I had always known, but never
Given voice to.
I write, not only to put a piece
Of myself on paper,
Immortalization, in a way,
But because I was searching
For something. Searching for some
Forgotten and lost part of myself.
Thinking, maybe in the words I say
And the words I don't,
And the reasons in between,
I would find my missing piece.
The other half of my soul.
GENIE Feb 2020
The curse of pain
The curse of overflowing tears
The curse of paralyzing fears
The curse of true love
The curse of being different
The course of dejection
The curse of joy
The curse of pride
The curse of self-expression
The curse of resilience
The curse of soul baring
And
The curse of immortalization
All these are a poet's curse
To these curses I am doomed
But I need no cure
I am blessed to be doomed
I am doomed to be a blessing
Cos I am blessed to be a poet
Dunno about you though???
Being a poet ain't child play
Respect them
If you think otherwise
You're welcome to try
Dedicated to Every poet
GENIE May 2020
Poets are something else
They stand apart,in a world torn apart
They see beauty in ashes
Who does that?
They understand the grasses
They see nature in magical glasses
That's what their mind are made of
So they see beauty in ugly stuff
No one understands pain more
No one understands love more
Their honesty is incomparable
They are simply God's miracle
Their imaginations are vast
Larger than the very universe put togther
They are never stingy
For they share their soul
They are messengers of hope
They should be enshrined as gods
Yet no true poet wants that
They simply want to share
Not for glory or immortalization
Yet they are born immortals
Whose words alter the course of time
They bring healing to a sick world
Relief to a pained world
They're God's treasured ones
If you doubt me,
Read the psalms of david
And the proverbs of Solomon
Read the Ecclesiastes
And see how God carefully planned them
Treasures them, and nature's them
This fills the devil with envy
And he sends trials their way
They're often torn, rejected, dejected
Beaten time and after
Yet they bring beauty to sufferings
And touch the core of your very soul
Poets are really something else
That's why they're often misunderstood
Once, I wasn't much of a poet
So it was hard to see,
How a fellow man makes suffering desirable
But since I began the journey,
I now understand why poets are something else, different from the rest of the world
RESPECT  to every poet out there,RESPECT.
love poets,respect poets,
Boaz Priestly Aug 2020
“love makes fools of us all,
my captain,” the bard says,
and there is no bitterness in
his voice, nor any shake

“but,” he continues,
smoothing down the collar
of the captain’s long-coat,
“there are worse things than
being a fool for you”

and the bard remembers something
from long ago
about how touching someone’s collar
will keep them safe at sea

so he does just that
one more time, for good measure
not just because he can
but because the captain will allow it

for there is more between them now
than a ship tossed about by the
waves on the oceans great expanse

but still, nothing more than
a pretty little dagger
tucked into the bard’s boot
and a daisy behind the captain’s ear

such simple little things
objects exchanged in a way
that is arguably a love language
though, who is to say, really?

what matters here is what
the dagger and the daisy hold

something like the promise of
immortalization through song,
the spoken and written word

and something like a goodbye
that is more a promise of return
and that is arguably a beautiful thing
wouldn’t you say
oh, captain of mine?
Norbert Tasev Mar 2020
Locked in the prison jail for four days of eternity, like a slowly sloughing, wailing wound, I was healing as I teared myself inside - the swaying light above my hallway, the shimmering light of the night, was not shivering! Couldn't have helped: I couldn't have believed that I would wake up again the next day, endlessly imprisoned, as a convict!

- Green-carpeted aluminum leather floors have convinced me: Here even the doomed are naturally yelling and screaming: Maybe when I get up and out of the small micro-henna, the universal feeling of human sympathy - and let the wounded hearts rest and be satisfied! - Stretched, strap-on to prevent debilitating bone in cats

grid like that executed - I protested stubbornly and stiffly - and was forced to scrape it with crumbs, mashed potatoes as well! "Perhaps the only refuge if one does not want to starve to death - and in the immortalization of Time until the morning, scientists decided, like a playful chessboard, of the fate of figures: Let's fall on the bed!" ,, In the operating room with him! Or let's have some more rest! ” - Four long

and after a day of suffering, I was able to get a red-blue overalls-blazer in my leg, which had proliferated in my legs, and as a fugitive astronaut in my parents' arms, I somehow stumbled out of the **** building! handcuffs from ******* beds to temporary and temporary luggage.

All this happened in those four days when the angels were ringing in the air and messaging for Christmas! Dream waiting just didn't come night! And the sadder was the unforgettable expectation that, with the hope of dawn, when even the wheel of luck could turn, I could hardly rush upon the found, lost miracles: my right foot was all laid in a plaster coffin, not a heavy hangman's tortoise, captivity trap preserved for mortality
gamesome, chucklesome, bothersome,
and awesome modest fellow)...
does not deliberately court immortalization,
and wonders what criteria confer elevation,
exaltation, glorification, hero worship,
idolization, veneration, or worship.

I go about a daily humdrum routine
me, a twenty first century baby boomer,
who considers himself passé
and senses with sensibility
he would have been more at home
during the early nineteen hundreds.

At threescore and six years
under my out of this world Kuiper belt,
this wannabe joker here makes the most
of figurative cards I got dealt
despite most every day of my life felt
accursed with mental health issues,
stunted physical growth,
and a split uvula - submucous cleft palate
on very rare occasions, I
(once a slip of a lad
and light as a feather)
got lifted off the ground

and tossed in air by classmates
momentarily suspended as a Great Dane helt
in high regard remembering those happy days
analogous to Reelin’ In the Years
being like a little fish in a big pond
poignant adventures
going out with weathered mariners
actually Norwegian bachelor farmers
tricked out ****** thru and thru
prematurely ******* with joie de vivre
while whipping the rod
hoping hook, line and sinker snags jacksmelt.

Nothing about my person screams
shine the kleiglights (an intense carbon arc lamp,
especially used in filmmaking) on me,
one foo fighting fool on the hill nowhere man,
who hopes to be reincarnated into the ideal of
acuity, bankability, creativity, divinity, ethicality,
fidelity, generosity, humility, integrity, jocundity,
knowledgeability, likability, magnanimity, nobility,
originality, perspicacity, luck quiddity, respectability,
sagacity, tranquility, unconventionality,
versatility, and winnability.

Now just let me get these grubby hands
on well preserved brains of freshly deceased,
and tinker ala Victor Frankenstein.

Yes quite a tall order,
but methinks I can master
genetic engineering (with both eyes closed -
and both hands tied behind my back),
and thwart (once and for all)
the nasty demise of mortality
and promise fail safe solution
to vanquish what people used to consider
the quaint inevitable and unavoidable
courtesy visit by the grim reaper -

depicted as wearing a dark hooded cloak
and wielding a scythe
also known as Hel, Thanatos -
formerly known as Azrael,
and better known as the Grim Reaper
the personification, embodiment,
and spirit of Death
(known throughout the cosmos
for appearing soon after someone died
to deliver their soul to the afterlife),

Psychopomp, or Shinigami
 "la Parca" ("The Robe"), -
a common term for the personification
of death across Latin America
forcing humanity to rethink and reboot
the concept of dying and meeting the maker
essentially making process of death obsolete
unleashing in this lifetime of mine
the solution to upend
the demise of corporeal entity

plus doing away with attendant
emotional and financial toll
final expense insurance policies generate -
whereby unabated longevity
no longer a worry of the past,
but another padding to "nest egg"
recouping set aside monies
to cover the costs incurred
by the death of a loved one,
whether that person

gets buried in a cemetery or cremated
to be become forever vanquished
courtesy creating a untapped market for
twenty blank nth century when speciality
to become a B certified and verified by B Lab
of social and environmental
performance, transparency, and accountability,
which demand to churn out
one after another doctors
named Victor Frankenstein

bringing to life "creature", "fiend",
"spectre", "dæmon", "wretch",
"devil", "thing", "being", and "ogre,"
which high paying specialists
must meet high standards,
whereby the newly hatched mad scientist
receives an bone a fide education
of corpse, whose appreciation acknowledged
by the grateful dead souls
their learning involves combining,

involving artificial intelligence,
reproductive biology and robotics
discovering solutions to synthesize
the best western qualities
and as a dissertation
presenting the most poignant
tragicomic live unrehearsed drama
showcasing the denouement of humanity
trumpeting **** sapiens
bumbling, fumbling, and tabling

after teasing out the box of Pandora
mysteries of development
building neural network describing
linkedin thinking computer systems
deoxyribonucleic acid, and branches
of engineering and computer science
that involve the conception, design,
manufacture and operation of robots
unwittingly as a cautionary tale
whereat smart machines outwit

and then control their creators
with decency, humanity, leniency....
no, not spelling the gloom and doom
of man/womankind,
but rather capitalists freed from labor boon
yet silver lining allows, enables, and provides
old fashioned option to party hardy,
or read all the books in the world
which upside being that human beings
can alway choose exit - stage door left

videre licet euthanasia (voluntary
and pain free suicide),
returning to the closed feedback loop
molecules and atoms
constituting and declaring
each unique personhood
ready and willing to give up the ghost
and buzzfeeding, jump/kick starting
and replenishing the biosphere.

— The End —