The Best of Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum : 09.04.10
“There's high, and there's high, and to get really high - I mean so high that you can walk on the water, that high - that's where I'm going” George Harrison
2Feb 7 CIM 344 (above) by painter David Arthur-Simons, one of over 20 artists currently coloring the virtual walls in Mad Swirl's eclectic electronic collective Mad Gallery.
Just in case you missed it, here's a taste of the poetry we featured this week in Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum...
•••••••••••
DON’T TAKE CHANCES WITH ROMANCES
In 1963, George Harrison sang: “She’s Got The Devil In Her Heart” and then “NO NO NO” and then “This I can’t believe.”
It was a terrible thing to say because there were millions and millions of girls who loved George Harrison so much so terribly much that they cried and fainted and asked themselves, Could he be talking about me? Secretly they wanted for George Harrison to say anything at all about them so they could faint and pee all over the dance floor when they fainted and their muscles relaxed even if it meant that George Harrison was saying that they had the devil in their hearts, no no no and that he couldn’t believe it.
It would have been so much better if he had simply said Judith or Cindy or Patty or Jill Has The Devil In Her Heart No No No so fewer girls would think that they had the devils in their heart woe woe woe and just the one guilty one would and then she would turn herself into the authorities, or as the English would say, bobbies.
Now all those girls are really old and on respirators and never think about George Harrison. I bet one was a murderer and got away with it. A long time ago. In love with George Harrison and killing people. She probably burned the house down while innocent people were sleeping peacefully inside. What a terrible person she was. Well, what can you do. She loved George Harrrison. And she really did have the devil in her heart no no etc.
I always thought George Harrison was very perceptive, and also very spiritual. I just wish that once he had taken the law into his own hand, rather than sing all the time, for the sake of everybody but that one terrible person whose name probably isn’t even Judith, or Patty or Jill–Cindy is an excellent choice of names. It was probably Cindy. Surely, with a name like Cindy, you would fall in love with fire and screaming and murder.
Yes, in a world of tragedy, George Harrison definitely had it going on!
Ricky Garni
(1 poem added 09.04.10)
editor's note: George did have it goin' on! Maybe Cindy just had no goals, so she took any road that came along (imagine the road it must be to make one love "fire screaming and murder"). But, George also said, "When you don't know where you're goin', any road will take you there." (Let's welcome Ricky back to the Swirl - check out his freshly-reinstated poetry page) - mh
•••••••••••
Prince Charming
I am a silver-backed gorilla,
who hasn’t wised up.
The epitome of an ugly duckling,
with clipped wings,
broken beak,
and webless feet.
I got a beard filled with all colors of hair,
most of which are not even mine.
I pick my nose and wipe it on white socks,
eat double the legal amount of hot wings,
and drink more than any
lush around.
But you will love me.
I climb beanstalks for golden eggs,
and leave confusing footprints.
I want to slap on your backside
as if it were an upright bass.
Your lips need gnawing,
as I wish you could risk watching
us make love in front of your parents.
You’re communion wine,
and I am a sleeve of crackers.
You are my muse,
and favorite centerfold.
The reason I wear pants in public is for you.
I’m an endless book of matches,
without a flint strip
and I need you to light me up.
Zach Fishel
(added 09.03.10)
editor's note: A more heartfelt love poem you won't find anywhere; unless you're in a back alley, listening to winos brag about loves won but never kept. - mh
•••••••••••
Invitation
While the world sleeps
We could delve the ouroboros of dreams
Rampage through Wonderland, Neverland,
cavalcades of roaring dragons,
princesses plucked from flowery fields,
angels dancing, dizzy as daemons, dervish
drunk on coloured rain
atop bright
copper pins.
Surreal circus of pineal circuit
Casts of glorious clowns sparkling
like sequined candy
Proud bears cycling in mid-air,
Amazing feats of flying day-glo trapeze chimpanzees
Wafting popcorn, white scents of sugar delight,
Pansies popping out of top hats as they expand
into darkest space
We could create
twinkling, luminous
sacred place
an anchor for unearthly adventure
a tableau to marvel in grace
if you would
play
May 2010
Laurie Corzett
(2 poems added 09.02.10)
editor's note: Here is something from our newest Contributing Poet, Laurie Corzett. She is speaking for all of Mad Swirl with this open "Invitation." R.S.V.P. (See another new one from Laurie on her new page - check it out.) - mh
•••••••••••
Johnny O
That night they put you in our circus
as one of the lions.
You came out naked and roaring,
covered only in earth, a true Rastafarian.
Rebel in body, you jumped through fire hoops.
We applauded your bravado, laughed at your crash helmet.
You pawed the ferocious lioness next to you.
We awaited your momentum – you gave chase.
Running in circles with your lion friends,
drinking spirits from a hidden bottle,
you stole the show by breathing fire.
Karin Crinella
(added 09.01.10)
editor's note: Our own long-time leader here is lionized with literary aplomb. Should our readers consider this a thankless attempt at self-aggrandizement? Nope!! Let's consider upon which side of the web our Mad Swirl is buttered and offer praise where due. Laud our lionized leader and look out! Hear him roar! - mh
•••••••••••
WE WERE MEANT FOR EACH OTHER
Do you remember the day we first met?
You sure were young, not more than sixteen.
You walked into that dealership, parents in tow.
Paced up and down the aisles searching for perfection.
Past the vans, through the trucks and on to the cars.
You looked ready to give up when I caught your eye.
It took more than an hour, but your parents eventually caved.
All that hard work was worth it, we were meant for each other.
You took the long way home, your smile getting bigger with every mile.
I was yours and you were mine. Life was now complete.
We went out every night for weeks, sometimes with nowhere to go.
It was never about the destination, it was spending time with each other.
You sure took good care of me, I couldn't have asked for more.
You cleaned me every week and were always there when I was down.
We've been through it all. The good and the bad, the ups and the downs.
I was there when you took that cute girl to the prom, you were glowing.
Then there was your high school graduation and the after-party, what a night.
Remember when you got your first job? I do, never work in the mall again.
How about that road trip a few years back? I though it would never end!
And what about when you proposed to your wife?
You sat with me for hours thinking about what to say. I think you did all right.
Something's changed though, you don't look at me the same way anymore.
We don't spend much time together, was it something I did?
Sure I've been around the block a few times, but it's still me.
These aren't dents, they're dimples. Scratches? What scratches?
I'm still the one you fell in love with so many years ago.
There's something different today, you sure are in a good mood.
You're cleaning me? You haven't done that in a while.
Must be a special occasion. How exciting!
Birthday? No. Anniversary? Not yet. What is it?
This is driving me crazy, what are you planning?
Here we go! Where could we be going, just the two of us?
I know this place, I've been here before. This is where we first met!
I bet you're getting me a surprise. What could it be?
What's this? You're getting me a sister? We're going to be best friends!
Wait, who is he and why are you giving him your keys?
What are you doing? Where are you going? Come back!
Why are you leaving me? Please, don't leave me!
Come back! …Please?
I still have so much to give.
I'll always remember you. We were meant for each other.
Raymond Williams
(added 08.31.10)
editor's note: Shameful the way we leave old loves behind. Enough to break my heart, to hear it from the ex-love's point of view. I can hear mine calling from that junkyard in the sky. Soon! Soon! We'll be together again soon! - mh
•••••••••••
Gushing thoughts
Everyone is Gaga for
telephones
and girls and guys
make simulated
love on the dance floor
and this freaking
is
freaking their
fathers and mothers
who are becoming
as frazzled as
the hair bands
of their youth
so they simply
cozy up by
fake fires
and read Nooks
and I am
neither fresh
nor stale
and my finger
is greasy on
the screen
of the iPad generation
the world is
cut and bleeding
crude greed
in the gulf
and Gore does
not have climate
control over his
life anymore
Obama is going
gray over Hurricane
Alex as Hurricane
Katy Perry washes
over California like
a sexy pink twister
yes, Gaga is
in total
dominatrix over
the land of
Pandora
and desire
blooms eternal
as I tame my
dragon nightly
and now I know
there is no longer
good or evil
just Jake or Edward
and yet I feel
renewed when
I hear a baby
say not Goo Goo
but Gaga as she
reaches for VH1
and
Eclipse falls
upon the
masses
I call out
Bella
and
convince myself
that Kristen Stewart
flicks her hair
for me
but alas
I am not
a wolf
with ripped abs
and so I am only
howling at Michael's moon
walk in outer space
Ivan Jenson
(2 poems added 08.30.10)
editor's note: Well, what a great goo has gushed upon us!! So much to sort through; don't know whether to update Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, Tweeter, Tooter, Tinkerbell Twang - it's so confusing. (Another good one from Ivan on his page - check it out.) - mh
•••••••••••
dear,
seems like disaster is about to start
thousands of houses with no god
dying music...
skin burns rotting velvet
swindling records scratch on rusty needles
indigenous tribes rot in burial grounds
closets of smoke and debauched crystals
electronic diseases...
posters stained with hitler
ice capped globes spin in ecstacy
and too long
the animals wait in line
while i'm stuck here
in a straight jacket
biting my own lip
Wolf Von Blum
(added 08.29.10)
editor's note: Hmmm. Well, if forced to choose, I'll take swindling records over posters of hitler everytime. But, I'd go nuts if it had to be both! - mh
•••••••••••
The whole Mad Swirl of everything to come keeps on keepin' on... now... now... NOW! Every second, every minute, every hour, every day, every week, every month, every year, every decade, every every EVERY there is! Wanna join in the poetic conversations going on in Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum? Then stop by whenever the mood strikes! We'll be here...
Floatingly Yours,
Johnny O
Editor-in-chief
MH Clay
Poetry Editor
2Feb 7 CIM 344 (above) by painter David Arthur-Simons, one of over 20 artists currently coloring the virtual walls in Mad Swirl's eclectic electronic collective Mad Gallery.
Just in case you missed it, here's a taste of the poetry we featured this week in Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum...
•••••••••••
DON’T TAKE CHANCES WITH ROMANCES
In 1963, George Harrison sang: “She’s Got The Devil In Her Heart” and then “NO NO NO” and then “This I can’t believe.”
It was a terrible thing to say because there were millions and millions of girls who loved George Harrison so much so terribly much that they cried and fainted and asked themselves, Could he be talking about me? Secretly they wanted for George Harrison to say anything at all about them so they could faint and pee all over the dance floor when they fainted and their muscles relaxed even if it meant that George Harrison was saying that they had the devil in their hearts, no no no and that he couldn’t believe it.
It would have been so much better if he had simply said Judith or Cindy or Patty or Jill Has The Devil In Her Heart No No No so fewer girls would think that they had the devils in their heart woe woe woe and just the one guilty one would and then she would turn herself into the authorities, or as the English would say, bobbies.
Now all those girls are really old and on respirators and never think about George Harrison. I bet one was a murderer and got away with it. A long time ago. In love with George Harrison and killing people. She probably burned the house down while innocent people were sleeping peacefully inside. What a terrible person she was. Well, what can you do. She loved George Harrrison. And she really did have the devil in her heart no no etc.
I always thought George Harrison was very perceptive, and also very spiritual. I just wish that once he had taken the law into his own hand, rather than sing all the time, for the sake of everybody but that one terrible person whose name probably isn’t even Judith, or Patty or Jill–Cindy is an excellent choice of names. It was probably Cindy. Surely, with a name like Cindy, you would fall in love with fire and screaming and murder.
Yes, in a world of tragedy, George Harrison definitely had it going on!
Ricky Garni
(1 poem added 09.04.10)
editor's note: George did have it goin' on! Maybe Cindy just had no goals, so she took any road that came along (imagine the road it must be to make one love "fire screaming and murder"). But, George also said, "When you don't know where you're goin', any road will take you there." (Let's welcome Ricky back to the Swirl - check out his freshly-reinstated poetry page) - mh
•••••••••••
Prince Charming
I am a silver-backed gorilla,
who hasn’t wised up.
The epitome of an ugly duckling,
with clipped wings,
broken beak,
and webless feet.
I got a beard filled with all colors of hair,
most of which are not even mine.
I pick my nose and wipe it on white socks,
eat double the legal amount of hot wings,
and drink more than any
lush around.
But you will love me.
I climb beanstalks for golden eggs,
and leave confusing footprints.
I want to slap on your backside
as if it were an upright bass.
Your lips need gnawing,
as I wish you could risk watching
us make love in front of your parents.
You’re communion wine,
and I am a sleeve of crackers.
You are my muse,
and favorite centerfold.
The reason I wear pants in public is for you.
I’m an endless book of matches,
without a flint strip
and I need you to light me up.
Zach Fishel
(added 09.03.10)
editor's note: A more heartfelt love poem you won't find anywhere; unless you're in a back alley, listening to winos brag about loves won but never kept. - mh
•••••••••••
Invitation
While the world sleeps
We could delve the ouroboros of dreams
Rampage through Wonderland, Neverland,
cavalcades of roaring dragons,
princesses plucked from flowery fields,
angels dancing, dizzy as daemons, dervish
drunk on coloured rain
atop bright
copper pins.
Surreal circus of pineal circuit
Casts of glorious clowns sparkling
like sequined candy
Proud bears cycling in mid-air,
Amazing feats of flying day-glo trapeze chimpanzees
Wafting popcorn, white scents of sugar delight,
Pansies popping out of top hats as they expand
into darkest space
We could create
twinkling, luminous
sacred place
an anchor for unearthly adventure
a tableau to marvel in grace
if you would
play
May 2010
Laurie Corzett
(2 poems added 09.02.10)
editor's note: Here is something from our newest Contributing Poet, Laurie Corzett. She is speaking for all of Mad Swirl with this open "Invitation." R.S.V.P. (See another new one from Laurie on her new page - check it out.) - mh
•••••••••••
Johnny O
That night they put you in our circus
as one of the lions.
You came out naked and roaring,
covered only in earth, a true Rastafarian.
Rebel in body, you jumped through fire hoops.
We applauded your bravado, laughed at your crash helmet.
You pawed the ferocious lioness next to you.
We awaited your momentum – you gave chase.
Running in circles with your lion friends,
drinking spirits from a hidden bottle,
you stole the show by breathing fire.
Karin Crinella
(added 09.01.10)
editor's note: Our own long-time leader here is lionized with literary aplomb. Should our readers consider this a thankless attempt at self-aggrandizement? Nope!! Let's consider upon which side of the web our Mad Swirl is buttered and offer praise where due. Laud our lionized leader and look out! Hear him roar! - mh
•••••••••••
WE WERE MEANT FOR EACH OTHER
Do you remember the day we first met?
You sure were young, not more than sixteen.
You walked into that dealership, parents in tow.
Paced up and down the aisles searching for perfection.
Past the vans, through the trucks and on to the cars.
You looked ready to give up when I caught your eye.
It took more than an hour, but your parents eventually caved.
All that hard work was worth it, we were meant for each other.
You took the long way home, your smile getting bigger with every mile.
I was yours and you were mine. Life was now complete.
We went out every night for weeks, sometimes with nowhere to go.
It was never about the destination, it was spending time with each other.
You sure took good care of me, I couldn't have asked for more.
You cleaned me every week and were always there when I was down.
We've been through it all. The good and the bad, the ups and the downs.
I was there when you took that cute girl to the prom, you were glowing.
Then there was your high school graduation and the after-party, what a night.
Remember when you got your first job? I do, never work in the mall again.
How about that road trip a few years back? I though it would never end!
And what about when you proposed to your wife?
You sat with me for hours thinking about what to say. I think you did all right.
Something's changed though, you don't look at me the same way anymore.
We don't spend much time together, was it something I did?
Sure I've been around the block a few times, but it's still me.
These aren't dents, they're dimples. Scratches? What scratches?
I'm still the one you fell in love with so many years ago.
There's something different today, you sure are in a good mood.
You're cleaning me? You haven't done that in a while.
Must be a special occasion. How exciting!
Birthday? No. Anniversary? Not yet. What is it?
This is driving me crazy, what are you planning?
Here we go! Where could we be going, just the two of us?
I know this place, I've been here before. This is where we first met!
I bet you're getting me a surprise. What could it be?
What's this? You're getting me a sister? We're going to be best friends!
Wait, who is he and why are you giving him your keys?
What are you doing? Where are you going? Come back!
Why are you leaving me? Please, don't leave me!
Come back! …Please?
I still have so much to give.
I'll always remember you. We were meant for each other.
Raymond Williams
(added 08.31.10)
editor's note: Shameful the way we leave old loves behind. Enough to break my heart, to hear it from the ex-love's point of view. I can hear mine calling from that junkyard in the sky. Soon! Soon! We'll be together again soon! - mh
•••••••••••
Gushing thoughts
Everyone is Gaga for
telephones
and girls and guys
make simulated
love on the dance floor
and this freaking
is
freaking their
fathers and mothers
who are becoming
as frazzled as
the hair bands
of their youth
so they simply
cozy up by
fake fires
and read Nooks
and I am
neither fresh
nor stale
and my finger
is greasy on
the screen
of the iPad generation
the world is
cut and bleeding
crude greed
in the gulf
and Gore does
not have climate
control over his
life anymore
Obama is going
gray over Hurricane
Alex as Hurricane
Katy Perry washes
over California like
a sexy pink twister
yes, Gaga is
in total
dominatrix over
the land of
Pandora
and desire
blooms eternal
as I tame my
dragon nightly
and now I know
there is no longer
good or evil
just Jake or Edward
and yet I feel
renewed when
I hear a baby
say not Goo Goo
but Gaga as she
reaches for VH1
and
Eclipse falls
upon the
masses
I call out
Bella
and
convince myself
that Kristen Stewart
flicks her hair
for me
but alas
I am not
a wolf
with ripped abs
and so I am only
howling at Michael's moon
walk in outer space
Ivan Jenson
(2 poems added 08.30.10)
editor's note: Well, what a great goo has gushed upon us!! So much to sort through; don't know whether to update Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, Tweeter, Tooter, Tinkerbell Twang - it's so confusing. (Another good one from Ivan on his page - check it out.) - mh
•••••••••••
dear,
seems like disaster is about to start
thousands of houses with no god
dying music...
skin burns rotting velvet
swindling records scratch on rusty needles
indigenous tribes rot in burial grounds
closets of smoke and debauched crystals
electronic diseases...
posters stained with hitler
ice capped globes spin in ecstacy
and too long
the animals wait in line
while i'm stuck here
in a straight jacket
biting my own lip
Wolf Von Blum
(added 08.29.10)
editor's note: Hmmm. Well, if forced to choose, I'll take swindling records over posters of hitler everytime. But, I'd go nuts if it had to be both! - mh
•••••••••••
The whole Mad Swirl of everything to come keeps on keepin' on... now... now... NOW! Every second, every minute, every hour, every day, every week, every month, every year, every decade, every every EVERY there is! Wanna join in the poetic conversations going on in Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum? Then stop by whenever the mood strikes! We'll be here...
Floatingly Yours,
Johnny O
Editor-in-chief
MH Clay
Poetry Editor
Comments