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Left Foot Poet Nov 2017
The Allusionists (Mary Winslow and Jeff Steir)

these two allusionists  **(not illusionists!)


composition is a criminal sentencing, a full-time sensitizing,
a never ending t/rue seeing, recalling, photography by word.

I am a career criminal.  I know.

these two retranslate by digging into word wells and
well hid storage closets under stairs so that we,
the not-in-attendance may envision their sightings with
two hands clutching, comprehending almost better than
the one who is actually there.  

for our version, the one they provide is,
coffee with cream,
scotch with a  beer chaser, tea with honey,
all to be, sipped slow, so
the hot frost on my the chest, infiltrating nostrils,
Vaporub-spreads slow and easy, brainward.  

the allusionists.

the habitual employers of this
specific filter,
(word weavers, I call them behind their backs),
weaving is not in my eternally planned skill set.  

I do so admire their tapestries
that guilt alone demands tribute and obeisance
and this poor imitation.  

I do so admire their tapestries.
November 25, 2017. 11:07 AM.
Jeff Stier Aug 2017
(In this poem, the authors alternate stanzas.)

AUTUMN'S CALL

In the stray
sweetness of yarrow
and starlings’ trill by dusk
rejoin the fading
without regret
as the foot worn grass will
receive morning’s frost.

And whenever that green yarrow fades
then I fade
in the dry husk
of this autumn of fire
this autumn of smoke and regrets.

Wake in sidelong sun
light half hidden
days under curtains
of violet and scarlet
leaves so soon
will bury the moss
inch by inch.

But I
being the beast that I am
will burrow through the moss
past every encumbrance
beyond hope and fear
and finally find the freedom of one
sweet day
in October
the air still
not a sound
but leaves settling
into the detritus of dreams.
Jeff Stier Aug 2017
(A note:  in this poem, the authors write alternate stanzas.)

FREEDOM

has always demanded
my surrender to an instant in time
surrender to fate and therefore
to glory

Though my wily will
has oft gotten in the way
with grand illusions and the necessary
fiction that I am in command

But in the end, it is command
of nothing and no one
for that is the nature of time,
mean shrew who prunes our hopes

A clock that does not click
nor clang, but flies tirelessly; one day
its talons will ****** us away, releasing us
forever, from the burdens of the day

And until those burdens take flight
I carry a candle for the hours, open a book
for the days, and teach my trembling hand
to hold on to hope.
Det er en normal dag
Med mit es i tænkeren.

Udødelig tryghed.

Rejsen mod esset dækker mine tanker,
Som et lagen af frihed.
Lagnet varmer mere og mere jo tættere destinationen nærmer sig.
Da jeg når destinationen
Bliver jeg genforenet med mit es

Udødelig frihed

Vi vasker vores sociale vasketøj
Og stier ud mod horisonten.

Udødelig **Harmoni.
wordvango Nov 2016
I am wanting to thank some very incredible people.
I also am hoping others will , also.
With that in mind I would like to list
ten poets here I feel people need to read.
My list consists of poets who are always active and generous ,
have good humor and sense.
I would like others to add their ten to my list.
And hopefully everyone eventually gets a shout out.
In the comments list ten poets you admire and would like to see
others appreciate. I will add  them to this list.
If you would like to list more feel free , the more the merrier, and the more
poets get a shout out and their name shared. I will add as many as you can type!
After all , this is goodwill and spirit and sharing and I feel good .


Vicki
Mark Cleavenger
Terry Collett
Ja
Sally Bayan
Emily Burns
Jules Winerose
Lady RF
Sukanya Sinha Roy
Valsa George
(Bill Hughes contributed the following)
Mary Winslow
Randolph L. Wilson
Elizabeth J
Bex
Ezra Warhol
my dearest reno
Wordvango
Jeff Stier
taia iverson
Dave Hewitt
Kristy Renae Dalton
(added by Eric W)
SPT
Doug Potter
Lola Park
SoulSurvivor
Inevitably Raised By Ducks
(added by Vicki)
Shawna Michele
Spygrandson
r
Woody
Pradip Chattopadhyay
SJR 1000
the seatbelt effect
Sonja Benskin Mesher
Don't Call Me Johnny
nivek
WL Winter
K Mae
Liz Balize
patty m
Pamela Rae
Sean Tierney
William Poppen
Michael Kagan
Biche
Irinia
Mikeccc
Paul Gaffney
Karina Norris Viers
Dawn
Brother Jimmy
Anthony
Phil Roberts
David Ehrgott
Jason Clarke
Angstrom
Jamadhi Verse
born
Weeping Willow
Terry Jordan
Traveler
Tonya Maria
CA Guilfoyle
elizabeth j
Grumpy Thumb
David Patrick O'C
f
(added by Sukanya Sinha Roy)
Eli N
Poetryjournal
Traveller
The Dead Sea
Zero
Nishu Mathur
James Michael Hail
Nagi
Angstorm
(Added by Sjr 1000)
Wardha
nagi
PoetryJournal
My Dystopia
Life's Jump
Bala
Nat Lipstad
Melissa
Ded Poet
Denel
Bex
Luiz Machado
(added by Jamadhi Verse)
Lora Lee
Wild is the Wind
Lalin
Akira Chen
R k
Onoma
Mydystopia
Stephanie
Stephan
Pradip :)
Karishna
(added by elizabeth j)
NB.
Lonely Soldier
Lily Mae
Thomas P Owens Sr
Sir WCA
Midnight Rain
Melissa S.
( added by Lori Jones McCaffery?
James
Kim Johanna Baker
Demonatachick
Elizabeth J
Yasaman Johari
Jean Lin
Lawrence Hall
Landon Miller
Chris Neilson
Pagan Paul
Sun Princess
Elizabeth Squires
Keith Wilson
Louise Sep 2016
det orange skær lægger sig som et yndefuldt lag over alle de opsatte trekanter, der så fint repræsenterer den syvdags-beboende flok af festglade mennesker, der dag for dag snor sig spruttende af glæde rundt mellem de mange stier, der opfyldes af et ocean af humørfyldte druklege

jeg selv er en del af det, og jeg trasker nynnende rundt mellem lattergaspatroner, smadrede oliofska flasker og knækkede stoleben
lad os kalde det en smuk losseplads

jeg er så stærkt fascineret af atmosfæren
også selv når mit hoved sumre og pumpes op af den velkendte klang af dak
og når jeg næsten dehydrere, af alt det vand jeg burde ha indtaget, i stedet for at anvende det til at drukne min hjerne i, når mine tanker lader sig sejle roterende rundt i orange bølger
dette dræner også én fra energi
så jeg mindes tydeligt øjeblikket, hvor vi tillod os selv at falde hen en times tid
og derefter, med et sæt, vågne op af tørsten samt trangen til at fortsætte indtagelsen af det påvirkende væske

vi går over mod apollo for at
endnu en gang
opleve nydelsen af tame impala's smukke udsendelser af øregangsorgasmer
jeg har det lidt halvdårligt, og forsøger lidt akavet at rette fokus mod mine eksotiske babyhår i panden, som stikker ud fra den gule skyggekasket, der meget udiskret og med en ekstrem ensfarvet sammensætning, matcher alt andet gult på min krop
for en stund virkede ignorancen

åh, se, en pomfritbod

et sødt pars hænder smelter sammen i aftensolens skær, lige inden de vender sig mod hinanden og blidt lader deres læber mødes. selve romantikken i seancen, bliver desværre hurtigt udvekslet af et råsnaveri, og jeg ryster let på hovedet
mine midlertidige følgesvende hiver straks deres mobiler frem og filmer et nøjagtigt pragteksemplar af mit sørgelige kærlighedsliv, mens jeg står standhaftigt og udstråler et hjerteskærende ansigtstryk
under mit humoristiske og selvironiske lag af skuespil, står jeg og overvejer alvoren i den thomas helmig sang, mine ører skuer i det fjerne
og med ét fremstår hele situationen nærmest egentlig som en bedrøvelse i sig selv, når jeg realiserer sandhedens betydning

en brummende bas drøner bagfra forbi os, og jeg opfanger i selvsamme sekund, at den gigantiske højtaler, imponerende nok, er blevet hægtet fast på cyklen med knapt så sparsomme mængder gaffatape
og jeg tænker, at cyklens skarpe sving, har en vis lighed med den roterende fornemmelse af lidelse, der dybt mærkes langs min rygsøjle
om det er fra mit efterhånden propfyldte net med unødvendige, fjollede småting eller de mange udmattende gåture på pladsen er jeg ikke helt klar over

nu ligger jeg herhjemme
ikke i teltet eller hos andrea, for den sags skyld
men helt hjemme
mine øjenlåg vibrerer af savn, når jeg hører musik, der minder mig om roskilde gengivelsen af de mange øjeblikke, 'nede mette' har sejlet rundt mellem mine slidte øregange, kan ikke fremstå på samme måde, som det gjorde på festivalpladsen
lugten af cigaretter sidder stadig mellem mine fingre
jeg spekulerer over, om det måske skyldes de mange gennempillet filtre

alt i alt har jeg en mærkværdig fornemmelse af, at skulle vanedanne mig selv ind i roskildes dagsrutiner, hvilket ville være en stor overbelastning for den ellers ganske normale hverdag
men jeg sidder alligevel her, inde i min nøddeskal og tænker at min modreaktion på savnen, vel umuligt bør være andet end at lede efter de små værdifulde ligheder, der kan genskabe min fascination af roskilde festivalens mange glæder
Stiplede linjer viser mig vejen
En mor der tager sit barn i hånden
Guider igennem sort røg
Forvirrede forbipasserende
Jordens galskab
Til pastelbesatte stier
og stjernesten

Liv kommer mig i møde
Flade væsner med hjerter i hænderne
Spænding mellem vores kroppe
Vores verdener kulminerer
Dækker industribygningerne
med sarte solskinsstrejf,
lyserøde skyer
og sammenplantninger

Min tur til Venus
flettede himlene sammen
Louise Sep 2016
det orange skær lægger sig som et yndefuldt lag over alle de opsatte trekanter, der så fint repræsenterer den syvdags-beboende flok af festglade mennesker, der dag for dag snor sig spruttende af glæde rundt mellem de mange stier, der opfyldes af et ocean af humørfyldte druklege

jeg selv er en del af det
og jeg trasker nynnende rundt mellem
lattergaspatroner,
smadrede oliofska flasker
og knækkede stoleben
lad os kalde det en smuk losseplads

der er noget helt specielt ved atmosfæren
også selv når hovederne sumre og pumpes op af den nu velkendte klang af dak
og når man næsten dehydrerende, forstår manglen på alt det vand man burde ha indtaget
i stedet for det euforiserende væske

et sødt pars hænder smelter sammen i aftensolens skær,
lige inden de vender sig mod hinanden og blidt lader deres læber mødes.
Selve romantikken i seancen, bliver desværre hurtigt udvekslet med et råsnaveri
og jeg ryster let på hovedet.
Samtidigt står jeg og overvejer alvoren i den
thomas helmig sang,
mine ører skuer i det fjerne.
Det hele får mig til at tænke over, hvad ægte kærlighed egentlig er

en brummende bas drøner bagfra forbi os, og jeg opfanger i selvsamme sekund, at den gigantiske højtaler, imponerende nok,
er blevet hægtet fast på cyklen med knapt så sparsomme mængder gaffatape
og jeg tænker, at cyklens skarpe sving, har en vis lighed med den roterende fornemmelse af lidelse, der mærkes dybt langs min rygsøjle
om det er fra mit efterhånden propfyldte net med unødvendigt gøgl
eller de mange udmattende gåture på pladsen
er jeg ikke helt klar over

nu ligger jeg herhjemme
ikke i teltet, som jeg nu havde vænnet mig til
men helt hjemme
alt i alt har jeg en mærkværdig fornemmelse af, at skulle vanedanne mig selv ind i roskildes dagsrutiner, hvilket ville være en stor overbelastning for den ellers ganske normale hverdag
men jeg sidder alligevel her, inde i min egen boble og tænker at min modreaktion på savnen, vel umuligt bør være andet end at lede efter de små værdifulde ligheder, der kan genskabe min fascination af roskilde festivalens mange glæder
Louise Sep 2016
jeg er vitterligt talt en elendig maler
men hvis jeg nu ejede alle verdens farver
ville jeg alligevel gøre mig så pokkers umage
og med abstrakte og forsigtige penselstrøg
male alle dine dage fine, yndefulde lyserøde farver og din himmel, den rareste lyseblå
jeg ville fjerne alt det sorte, der skulle indtræffe i dit livs snoede stier og erstatte dem med en varm, gul farve, der ville udfylde dig med alverdens lykke og glæde
fordi mindre end dette, burde ej være optimalt, for én som du
Mateuš Conrad Jan 2021
all the hard work seems to have been done,
not that any was done
to begin with...

   from the fountain of nouns -
   there's nothing...
   well there's no new new
   in the sense that
   a hammer was monumental
   a bridge too...
   when wine was first made...

i'm waiting for something spectacular,
like a Krzesimir Dębski
arrangement or a film like
American Beauty -
        or just tomorrow that can
be turned into a resurrected
dog...

         not that a life, this life is
somehow wished alternative...
      that it can be: the life... that life...
today i was at the fishmonger
eyeing up a lobster -
perched on a platter of dead fish...
more animated than alive...
animate thing -
   eyes like dark portals -
         i a puddle's worth of a labyrinth
in which an ******* could
equal genocide of my d.n.a. -
something a little horrid:
   just like that...

and of course...
      what is a george oppen poem...
what's a miroslav holub poem...
   two days prior i was in a w.h. smith:
in the classics sections
with the meagre display of poetry
on offer...
    and... well there wasn't much...
so here's to... doing it for free...
doing it for the cult-esque fancies
of a readership...
doing it for... best served outlet:
bypassing editorial qualms and
what would / might sell: eyes peeling...

what's a Will Alexander poem...
what's poetryfoundation.org even about
except: race, bad grammar in bio:
i they O vey you and my pronoun
whiplash: Aladdin's ditto to
               a Khan or otherwise a variation
of Ottoman...

pristine nouns - historical gravity
i.e. a receding pastoral version: today
yes and of a time: that's prior...
when written i'm assured:
not spoken -
  at least that's how i know when
i can relax a little from thinking:
or any other: moral-ought
should i still have any...

       to the source of ontology -
       how to be: prized culprit a nuanced
       deity of the omni-
       prefix rubric like 2 x 2 =

there are some places where only
a first Tuesday of January
at 2pm belongs to...
   i can think of at least three-quarters
of a dozen of such
places: which i will not name...

but at least here: i would like
to express how i relax from thinking:
or... not thinking...
between the structures
of res cogitans / the narrative ortho-physical
gob...
and res vanus / the empty vacuum
two eyes for periscopes
a sea of grey amassing -
     a variation of suppose: people
their own lives...
    placebo solipsism /
           it's like that 'the earth is flat'...
"theory"...
      it's not an 'ought experiment...
it's more a: because it might happen on
c.c.t.v. no chance for north.east.west.south...

exhaustion... fork in the road:
now more sketching than...
it was never going to be a conversation
or a script to... orate & plagiarise...
in the end: that's a beginning...
while in the middle
there's all this shrapnel and...
   a need to compartmentalize...
shove and sort and take a strong arm:
work a shovel...
not that you'd ever use
a shovel to shove...
or shoo / cuddle with a coo coo...
a flurry of pigeons...

    and that i was shat on one today...
years ago i thought it might
be deemed lucky...
  but the image in my 'ed was...
only lucky... should 'un'
                        take a diarrhoea "tot"
on a bowler 'at o' mine...

3 full glasses of wine...
   that's... 3 full glasses of wine...
       a cat sleeping in my bed...
and half past midnight to come...
also...
   had i discovered pinyin earlier...
no matter i'd still be
bothered about the eternal glyphs...
needless to say
i came across hangul and katakana
prior and i knew
they made sense...
            
well: sounds...
         back to the sound of ambiance
i.e. the "music" a refrigerator makes
in the middle of the night...
that there's N
and all the vowels...
       (ン) ア     イ ウ エ オ

and this is how N looks like
     when "mutilated" by, said vowels...
acting as a prefix

n.b. why ES and not SEE
                "C" but not ECK
                 KAY... TEA but not ET
                ZEEZEDZEZ but:
                 EN
                 EM
                           ME N'EH...
                  NA            NO...
syllables syllables...

(ン)ナ     ニ ヌ ネ ノ

MANNA
   i.e.                          マンナ         (1)
                                   マンンア    (2)

      (1) is...             (2)... isn't...

rigid structures of bull-tied-to-tongue
doy'ch:
           stier-gebunden-zu-zunge...
a name of a woman...
                         アンナ...

ナノ:                   n'ah "know":
   which isn't: now...
           ergo: n'oh...
                                laughter in
katakana: ハ ハ
                            ハ   アハ      ハ ....

bother:           cull the surds and then
"somehow" the sounds...

borrow / lend: apples and coal...
i.e. セキタン
          (sekitan)
          リンゴ (ringo) non essentially:
1960s anglo-ßaß culture: rut...
nostalgia... bonfire...
       crisp as: cutting in with words
it's not like there's a moral
backlog of cursed morose & dodgy
fabric... history sort of:
relaxed & ****** off...

           if i could wiggle in some
korean: Ta
                 Ke
                             the periodic
of keeping tables...
   having chairs to char a bias
on for bone...
  serve up the chisel...
    rough up: coincidentally
the brood of stones & stoics...

              hoops... which you could
dub bonanza for chitters,
jokes and jitters...
           variations of D        Z:
talk Fwench ****:
wan                   and qi    cue: K...

the "currency" of verbiage...
      
   otherwise: when a pronoun behaves
like an article...
notable example:
       mein kampf - i'll treat "my" as
a pronoun rather than as a determiner...
the way i see it... thus...
my struggle is...
      casually... my: definitely articulated...

ich / i(s)ch kampf...
                   "i" struggle... which is...
an indefinite article...
blessed jah! the grammar *******
have... cometh!
phi or theta closure?
both?!                  hey-ya!

   variations of:
     chew-tongue... slurp-bone...
  kauenzunge
                 schlürfenknochen...

    loiter-with-shadow:
                   "head" detached...

herumlungern-mit-schatten:
           "kopf" abgetrennt...

rigid like Trent and...
              heave the Rhine, Rodin...

ol' schwab...
    wine = sour-grapes
                                            wein = sauertrauben...

these fesseln these scharniere,
these schleifen: ernte... nichts...
             my godhead humming...
                      no play-pristine-good-fork
of a **** 'ere "now"...
language for the eyes...
language for the nose: K: cardamom...
before we: were never going to
sit it out in a Siberian work-around...
chasm such that the echo: spawned...
litanies in Byzantine...
     which was a precursor to
Turk & Ish...

                     schweinefleischhacken...
what a nice... nice bIG best...
rounded word with
not hyphens...
maXen m'ah mummy: noun that's also
a verb... alias:      schleichumfang...

ein / eine bursary für
                                    sechs ("z"ex):
          
           zitieren:
quetschen - unter alles die onomatopoeias
  (rigid ******* word...
hasn't changed since the greek's
eureka 'id it)...

           los los los...
               gargantuan only with
a glagolitic mmm...
   almost looking armanian...
ⰏⰀ
   マ...
                 Helmut gorun'd'tat...
heave!
              
   - and "they" thought i might just...
give up... tongue like ice-cream...
like easy like
low hanging fruit... like:
for the taking...
all the **** and ****
and she still has a superiority
complex when
i look at it as: collateral...
little o... pseudo-***                  
  
             (ch / č
                        hide a vowel / vowel-catcher...
      cache a vowel...
                    verstecken ein vokal...
                 vokalfänger - or pretend...
just pretend to laugh)...

and croat... down the corridor
of an arm-wrestle between
proto-prussian and pan-slavic
rus...
        tell me some more:
and i'll acute that S for you...

                                                if only:
details could be written in german
as: detallen detallen...
but is... otherwise... beiwerk / nähere...
oops is for: regenschirm -
and bloat is for: pilz...

         and here's for a *******
carousel!
   rotondo, kalimotxo... "jajaja"...
meow-up-m'ah crease of zzz of agitated
lazy of herr Kraz...
certainly...                 if that's how:
letters "work"...

                 arbeit: arrived at:
macht...               freedoms pigeons
and dolphins...       creases of paper...
           come 2am... it's plenty.

— The End —