The Best of Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum : 10.23.10
“The typewriter is holy the poem is holy the voice is holy the hearers are holy the ecstasy is holy!” Allen Ginsberg
Just in case you missed it, here's a taste of the poetry we featured this week in Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum...
•••••••••••
I ONCE HAD THIS BEAUTIFUL IDEA,
So I wrote it down
with blue marker and
when I came back to read it,
the words had all run together
on the wet napkin,
into one blurry cluster,
like veins and small spaces.
Nicole Kuwik
(3 poems added 10.23.10)
editor's note: What makes a lightbulb go off, but a flash of energy which brings darkened images to light? What is more profound to see for the first time - a mushroom cloud, billowing upwards, mile by mile; or a smeared remnant of words that had meaning when written, though can no more be read? (See two more new ones from Nicole on here page.) - mh
•••••••••••
Thinking Backwards
Your memory is a movie
I like to watch in reverse.
I watch the pieces pulling together
returning the smiles we have lost.
And mouths moving --
no words --
I fill in the blanks to match.
It gives us a whole new life.
You say your name.
A few seconds and I do the same.
Farther and farther
to the beginning we go.
I close my eyes.
Hello.
And it’s over.
With a much better word
than good-bye.
A.J. Huffman
(added 10.22.10)
editor's note: What a great idea! Let's open a reverse Cinema. Experience last that delightful anticipation that comes before the theater goes dark; great, no matter how disappointing the movie might be. - mh
•••••••••••
Networks
He called her
A bitch...
Told her Neiman Marcus
Was running
An October special
On restraw jobs
For flying single seater vehicles.
They all laughed,
Especially the fleshy, mildewed ones.
It made their hearts race,
Which is more
Than sex had done
In the last thirty years,
But then she countered,
“Must have been a local special.
Our Neiman’s featuring
Petite G-Strings
In rhinestone, leather and silver lame.
What’s your preference?”
It made the hoary ones groan.
They were protective
Of their mentor,
After all it was merely custom,
Standard indoctrination,
Belligerent routine,
And they were all friends,
Intimates,
On that
Computer
Bulletin board.
Sheree La Puma-Watson
(added 10.21.10)
editor's note: Hell, yeah! Don't dish it if you can't take it! Don't take your gods too seriously - I mean, really, ever looked at an ostrich without laughing? - mh
•••••••••••
Alone Ever More
Dancing with Disturbing Doubts
On and Over an Omen
Shuddering through a Shadow’s past
Listening Lethargically
to a Demon’s Dream of Day,
of Love, Loneliness and Life
a Hand to Hold and Haven
Words to Wish and Welt
Speaking Something Selfish and vague
Creating a Cut upon this Cradle
Mercifully Made and Mended
For a Forgetful Face
a Negligent Name
a Heathen’s Heavy Heart…
It is Empty for an Ever Ego
Asseveratively Allowing
Only Openness to One’s self
a Proud Promise
of Devotion to a Desolate
Way of Walking through
Tonight, Tomorrow, and a Tempting rest of my life!
Margaret Stringham
(added 10.20.10)
editor's note: Yes, be tempted, give in; take a deep breath - look forward, not down; step out there - it's all your's anyway. Right, Maggie? - mh
•••••••••••
thursday, august 4th, columbus circle
my body hurts and i’ m not sure but i
think my shirt smells
like smoke
- i don’ t know why.
i want to live
behind a clock in a train station,
like the boy in that story
that i have never read.
i want to live in the ocean,
down amongst all the dark and all the crabs,
back home in the sand.
i want to live in these places but i don’ t.
i live here, in the city –
where i also want to live, but
where the air is heavy with heat,
thick so it hangs around the buildings in ropes;
you can almost hang on to it
and swing.
so let’ s grab it and go,
live in the woods somewhere alone,
where the air is more clear and i can see
your face
in the moonlight.
Leigh Vandebogart
(added 10.19.10)
editor's note: Yes, yes, let's live in all those places, all at once. Let's end every journey from hot stuffy places with a cool breeze and a face in the moonlight. Wonderful! - mh
•••••••••••
Dig It
It's a digital
world and
there are
only 2 digits
off on
zero one
flying floating
over under. Listen to
those
computing
computers
yes no
up down
Dam it just 2 digits
why can't we
stop thinking
right wrong
black white. Discover shades
nuances tones
tints of grey
slate
dove
silver
smoke
taupe...pearl...creme
all the tones of
Enter that inbetween.
nebulous haze
this big bad
world of
maybe.
Joan McNerney
(added 10.18.10)
editor's note: Exactly what we've been thinking lately; use these digital media to paint wide swaths of grey!!! Challenge ourselves to step smack on the cracks, break those digital dogmatic backs. Yes, Joan, you got something there! - mh
•••••••••••
Sluiced
Maid to the wigwam...
Pear-cling drippings
on her jewel-tone lips
JUICED and SLUICED...
Email rudder
rudimentary
as feathers in the wind...
As she looks askance
in the
seagull-clotted breeze,
grey skull
constancy
is forging forward...
I am
a statue of Stonehenge
(yet Tiki-faced)
lacquered shut
by wind and rain:
decadent
decades
of secrets
silkily
cocooned
inside
Corynthia Moor
(added 10.17.10)
editor's note: Properly juiced, anyone can break through the stone facade to the mysteries hiding beneath. Be you own Tiki-god, sacrifice yourself to yourself and live forever! - 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...
Holy'n,
Johnny O
Editor-in-chief
MH Clay
Poetry Editor
Just in case you missed it, here's a taste of the poetry we featured this week in Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum...
•••••••••••
I ONCE HAD THIS BEAUTIFUL IDEA,
So I wrote it down
with blue marker and
when I came back to read it,
the words had all run together
on the wet napkin,
into one blurry cluster,
like veins and small spaces.
Nicole Kuwik
(3 poems added 10.23.10)
editor's note: What makes a lightbulb go off, but a flash of energy which brings darkened images to light? What is more profound to see for the first time - a mushroom cloud, billowing upwards, mile by mile; or a smeared remnant of words that had meaning when written, though can no more be read? (See two more new ones from Nicole on here page.) - mh
•••••••••••
Thinking Backwards
Your memory is a movie
I like to watch in reverse.
I watch the pieces pulling together
returning the smiles we have lost.
And mouths moving --
no words --
I fill in the blanks to match.
It gives us a whole new life.
You say your name.
A few seconds and I do the same.
Farther and farther
to the beginning we go.
I close my eyes.
Hello.
And it’s over.
With a much better word
than good-bye.
A.J. Huffman
(added 10.22.10)
editor's note: What a great idea! Let's open a reverse Cinema. Experience last that delightful anticipation that comes before the theater goes dark; great, no matter how disappointing the movie might be. - mh
•••••••••••
Networks
He called her
A bitch...
Told her Neiman Marcus
Was running
An October special
On restraw jobs
For flying single seater vehicles.
They all laughed,
Especially the fleshy, mildewed ones.
It made their hearts race,
Which is more
Than sex had done
In the last thirty years,
But then she countered,
“Must have been a local special.
Our Neiman’s featuring
Petite G-Strings
In rhinestone, leather and silver lame.
What’s your preference?”
It made the hoary ones groan.
They were protective
Of their mentor,
After all it was merely custom,
Standard indoctrination,
Belligerent routine,
And they were all friends,
Intimates,
On that
Computer
Bulletin board.
Sheree La Puma-Watson
(added 10.21.10)
editor's note: Hell, yeah! Don't dish it if you can't take it! Don't take your gods too seriously - I mean, really, ever looked at an ostrich without laughing? - mh
•••••••••••
Alone Ever More
Dancing with Disturbing Doubts
On and Over an Omen
Shuddering through a Shadow’s past
Listening Lethargically
to a Demon’s Dream of Day,
of Love, Loneliness and Life
a Hand to Hold and Haven
Words to Wish and Welt
Speaking Something Selfish and vague
Creating a Cut upon this Cradle
Mercifully Made and Mended
For a Forgetful Face
a Negligent Name
a Heathen’s Heavy Heart…
It is Empty for an Ever Ego
Asseveratively Allowing
Only Openness to One’s self
a Proud Promise
of Devotion to a Desolate
Way of Walking through
Tonight, Tomorrow, and a Tempting rest of my life!
Margaret Stringham
(added 10.20.10)
editor's note: Yes, be tempted, give in; take a deep breath - look forward, not down; step out there - it's all your's anyway. Right, Maggie? - mh
•••••••••••
thursday, august 4th, columbus circle
my body hurts and i’ m not sure but i
think my shirt smells
like smoke
- i don’ t know why.
i want to live
behind a clock in a train station,
like the boy in that story
that i have never read.
i want to live in the ocean,
down amongst all the dark and all the crabs,
back home in the sand.
i want to live in these places but i don’ t.
i live here, in the city –
where i also want to live, but
where the air is heavy with heat,
thick so it hangs around the buildings in ropes;
you can almost hang on to it
and swing.
so let’ s grab it and go,
live in the woods somewhere alone,
where the air is more clear and i can see
your face
in the moonlight.
Leigh Vandebogart
(added 10.19.10)
editor's note: Yes, yes, let's live in all those places, all at once. Let's end every journey from hot stuffy places with a cool breeze and a face in the moonlight. Wonderful! - mh
•••••••••••
Dig It
It's a digital
world and
there are
only 2 digits
off on
zero one
flying floating
over under. Listen to
those
computing
computers
yes no
up down
Dam it just 2 digits
why can't we
stop thinking
right wrong
black white. Discover shades
nuances tones
tints of grey
slate
dove
silver
smoke
taupe...pearl...creme
all the tones of
Enter that inbetween.
nebulous haze
this big bad
world of
maybe.
Joan McNerney
(added 10.18.10)
editor's note: Exactly what we've been thinking lately; use these digital media to paint wide swaths of grey!!! Challenge ourselves to step smack on the cracks, break those digital dogmatic backs. Yes, Joan, you got something there! - mh
•••••••••••
Sluiced
Maid to the wigwam...
Pear-cling drippings
on her jewel-tone lips
JUICED and SLUICED...
Email rudder
rudimentary
as feathers in the wind...
As she looks askance
in the
seagull-clotted breeze,
grey skull
constancy
is forging forward...
I am
a statue of Stonehenge
(yet Tiki-faced)
lacquered shut
by wind and rain:
decadent
decades
of secrets
silkily
cocooned
inside
Corynthia Moor
(added 10.17.10)
editor's note: Properly juiced, anyone can break through the stone facade to the mysteries hiding beneath. Be you own Tiki-god, sacrifice yourself to yourself and live forever! - 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...
Holy'n,
Johnny O
Editor-in-chief
MH Clay
Poetry Editor
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