The Best of Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum : 03.30.13
“Poetry surrounds us everywhere, but putting it on paper is, alas, not so easy as looking at it.” ~ Vincent van Gogh
•••••••••••
This last week in Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum... we whipped up a wild wind to ruffle some leaves and misogynist conventions; we color-coded our cognition, bade a black bird blue; we fell flat, foiled by an illusive lover's flutter; we did not forsake a muse's mood, did undertake to tell but not intrude, the button pushed, but not the blame; we cyber-saw the emerging law of solitary digital destiny; we sought second sight, away from screens, 'neath cloudless skies, beauty, briefly borne by stealthy spies; we knew a night of racing mind, away from sleep, if rest we find, we must count stars instead of sheep. Sleep and dream, let the verses keep you. ~ mh
Just in case you missed it, here's a taste...
Dim
You keep me up at night
When I should be dreaming, right
But when I close my eyes
Brush the stars away with a smile
Start to fall into blackness
Then the darkest expanses
Envelope me into the lucid path
Mind goes too fast to just relax
Heard that certain ninja skills
Teach assassins to sneak uphill
Into unsuspecting dreamers still
Reclining until they move in for the kill
Get ready for the evening
Ready for my mind’s wandering
Vaguely slipping into lucid dreaming
If only I could remember the real things
But it's too much
To just wake up
And remember enough
To change my luck
So I can’t wait to get tired
Busy sleep is what’s required
Can’t wait to see what transpires
When we slip over the astral trip wire
Never know what’s in store
Through Morpheus’ back door
Till you hit the floor
And decide there is no reason to run for
Realize that everything is nothing
And less is more
Whatever you allow for
Is what you are in for
And before you are done for
You ought to know the score
Nox - subconscious
- Suza Kanon
(3 poems added 03.30.13)
editor's note: Dark, but not dim-witted; brightly stated, high-stepping to miss the trip wire. We'll take all the fors now and that astral tumble later, thanks. (Let's welcome Suza to our mad confabulation of Contributing Poets - see some more fine work on her new page.) - mh
INNER BEAUTY
She had a glimpse
drip from corner of a sudden smile
she caught it
as she would the rain in her mouth
a glimpse
like shadow of a bird that flew by
her eyes tracing wing prints against a cloudless sky
a moment curled its toes on a ledge
splattered over cracked soil of her path
raising dust of oozing wounds under crusted scabs
lips no longer apart
somewhere the sparrows wept
July 2012
- Silva Zanoyan Merjanian
(added 03.29.13)
editor's note: It's a sand grit blink, a wind whispered wash at the edge of sight. Did you catch it? - mh
Withdrawal Symptoms
Jane Doe works at home,
consumer research,
uses the computer
for virtually everything.
Pays rent on-line,
talks to friends on-line,
orders meals on-line,
has sex on-line.
Jane Doe's life
is the future,
unless we lose
our power supply.
- Gary Beck
(2 poems added 03.28.13)
editor's note: This ensures the propogation of the race; our cyber children, all those cute little ones and zeros. (Another bit of Gary's cyber byte on his page. Enter here to enjoy.) - mh
Symbiotic
You started this mess
by looking for some way
to narrate your mood
which surfaced here
by thinking how
misplaced you feel
somewhere to say
what you don’t and
to say what you say
with me saying it
say I’m crazy yes
takes one to know one
I’m sorry but
is this me writing
or you reading
after all who
away from us
will ratify
this gibberish
about what seems
out of sync
in your head
that fondles
your mute button
well no matter
the blame is mine
as much as yours
because I played
hide and go seek
and you found me
like you always do
trying to run
outside your reach.
- Dane Karnick
(added 03.27.13)
editor's note: So it continues; the illusive search for that someone to finish your sentences but not your freedom to roam. - mh
Night of the Black Swan
She was night's Geronimo,
and her feather’s black
grew into every hair
of the electric crow
Fiery green flames
drank her soul,
ripened with the
purple-ink grapes of Malbec
Only her dripping wet hair
slept with sleeping lions,
as do black-olive-eyes
purr of cello strings.
Dreaming of her blue moon
woven into mine
only creates a vacuum
in her liquid leggings.
Must I always keep hope as my fire
among the popping spheres
and raindrops
of morning leaves
If so, let them eat the clouds of my mouth
with candyfloss,
where synchronicity alone
rides the wounded bull of Manet.
© Oct. 7th 2012
- Alan Patrick Traynor
(added 03.26.13)
editor's note: She will not light on that boring bull branch in your insipid aviary; lay down, impotent oaf, expire. Ole, Toro! - mh
Certain Light
Misunderstood as salt
she wanted now to dissolve.
Her favorite color seashore blue
at twilight when the mind imposes
color upon black truth.
A raven is blue in certain light.
- Randall Johnson
(1 poem added 03.25.13)
editor's note: Is perception reality? Phenomenologically speaking, "Yes, indeed!" The raven is blue. - mh
Beware the Aeolian Priestess, Oaken Man
“Big trees provoke the pride of winds” ~ Japanese proverb
A casual breeze, I’ll riffle your leaves.
Lightly gusting, I’ll toss your twigs.
A dust devil, I’ll twirl your slim branches.
A tornado, I’ll strip your leaves and crack your limbs.
Cyclonic, I’ll rip your roots and twist your trunk.
In a hurricane passion
You are mine
And I can discard you,
At will.
- Kay Kinghammer
(added 03.24.13)
editor's note: Hey, fellas! If you have shallow-rooted intentions, look out! - 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...
Lookin',
Johnny O
Editor-in-chief
MH Clay
Poetry Editor
•••••••••••
This last week in Mad Swirl's Poetry Forum... we whipped up a wild wind to ruffle some leaves and misogynist conventions; we color-coded our cognition, bade a black bird blue; we fell flat, foiled by an illusive lover's flutter; we did not forsake a muse's mood, did undertake to tell but not intrude, the button pushed, but not the blame; we cyber-saw the emerging law of solitary digital destiny; we sought second sight, away from screens, 'neath cloudless skies, beauty, briefly borne by stealthy spies; we knew a night of racing mind, away from sleep, if rest we find, we must count stars instead of sheep. Sleep and dream, let the verses keep you. ~ mh
Just in case you missed it, here's a taste...
Dim
You keep me up at night
When I should be dreaming, right
But when I close my eyes
Brush the stars away with a smile
Start to fall into blackness
Then the darkest expanses
Envelope me into the lucid path
Mind goes too fast to just relax
Heard that certain ninja skills
Teach assassins to sneak uphill
Into unsuspecting dreamers still
Reclining until they move in for the kill
Get ready for the evening
Ready for my mind’s wandering
Vaguely slipping into lucid dreaming
If only I could remember the real things
But it's too much
To just wake up
And remember enough
To change my luck
So I can’t wait to get tired
Busy sleep is what’s required
Can’t wait to see what transpires
When we slip over the astral trip wire
Never know what’s in store
Through Morpheus’ back door
Till you hit the floor
And decide there is no reason to run for
Realize that everything is nothing
And less is more
Whatever you allow for
Is what you are in for
And before you are done for
You ought to know the score
Nox - subconscious
- Suza Kanon
(3 poems added 03.30.13)
editor's note: Dark, but not dim-witted; brightly stated, high-stepping to miss the trip wire. We'll take all the fors now and that astral tumble later, thanks. (Let's welcome Suza to our mad confabulation of Contributing Poets - see some more fine work on her new page.) - mh
INNER BEAUTY
She had a glimpse
drip from corner of a sudden smile
she caught it
as she would the rain in her mouth
a glimpse
like shadow of a bird that flew by
her eyes tracing wing prints against a cloudless sky
a moment curled its toes on a ledge
splattered over cracked soil of her path
raising dust of oozing wounds under crusted scabs
lips no longer apart
somewhere the sparrows wept
July 2012
- Silva Zanoyan Merjanian
(added 03.29.13)
editor's note: It's a sand grit blink, a wind whispered wash at the edge of sight. Did you catch it? - mh
Withdrawal Symptoms
Jane Doe works at home,
consumer research,
uses the computer
for virtually everything.
Pays rent on-line,
talks to friends on-line,
orders meals on-line,
has sex on-line.
Jane Doe's life
is the future,
unless we lose
our power supply.
- Gary Beck
(2 poems added 03.28.13)
editor's note: This ensures the propogation of the race; our cyber children, all those cute little ones and zeros. (Another bit of Gary's cyber byte on his page. Enter here to enjoy.) - mh
Symbiotic
You started this mess
by looking for some way
to narrate your mood
which surfaced here
by thinking how
misplaced you feel
somewhere to say
what you don’t and
to say what you say
with me saying it
say I’m crazy yes
takes one to know one
I’m sorry but
is this me writing
or you reading
after all who
away from us
will ratify
this gibberish
about what seems
out of sync
in your head
that fondles
your mute button
well no matter
the blame is mine
as much as yours
because I played
hide and go seek
and you found me
like you always do
trying to run
outside your reach.
- Dane Karnick
(added 03.27.13)
editor's note: So it continues; the illusive search for that someone to finish your sentences but not your freedom to roam. - mh
Night of the Black Swan
She was night's Geronimo,
and her feather’s black
grew into every hair
of the electric crow
Fiery green flames
drank her soul,
ripened with the
purple-ink grapes of Malbec
Only her dripping wet hair
slept with sleeping lions,
as do black-olive-eyes
purr of cello strings.
Dreaming of her blue moon
woven into mine
only creates a vacuum
in her liquid leggings.
Must I always keep hope as my fire
among the popping spheres
and raindrops
of morning leaves
If so, let them eat the clouds of my mouth
with candyfloss,
where synchronicity alone
rides the wounded bull of Manet.
© Oct. 7th 2012
- Alan Patrick Traynor
(added 03.26.13)
editor's note: She will not light on that boring bull branch in your insipid aviary; lay down, impotent oaf, expire. Ole, Toro! - mh
Certain Light
Misunderstood as salt
she wanted now to dissolve.
Her favorite color seashore blue
at twilight when the mind imposes
color upon black truth.
A raven is blue in certain light.
- Randall Johnson
(1 poem added 03.25.13)
editor's note: Is perception reality? Phenomenologically speaking, "Yes, indeed!" The raven is blue. - mh
Beware the Aeolian Priestess, Oaken Man
“Big trees provoke the pride of winds” ~ Japanese proverb
A casual breeze, I’ll riffle your leaves.
Lightly gusting, I’ll toss your twigs.
A dust devil, I’ll twirl your slim branches.
A tornado, I’ll strip your leaves and crack your limbs.
Cyclonic, I’ll rip your roots and twist your trunk.
In a hurricane passion
You are mine
And I can discard you,
At will.
- Kay Kinghammer
(added 03.24.13)
editor's note: Hey, fellas! If you have shallow-rooted intentions, look out! - 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...
Lookin',
Johnny O
Editor-in-chief
MH Clay
Poetry Editor
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