Poetry

  • Most Topular Stories

  • Venus and the Ark By Anne Sexton

    Poem of the Day
    Poetry Foundation
    16 May 2012 | 1:00 am
    By Anne Sexton

  • Three Poems: Gaza CPDS Poetry #2

    Poetry News
    16 May 2012 | 2:41 am
    The Center for Political and Development Studies organised a contest a year ago on Prisoners and Nakba and recieved these submissions.

  • My unpredictable birthday moment

    bentlily | One poem a day
    Samantha Reynolds
    16 May 2012 | 2:03 am
    There is cake and my husband plants poems under my keyboard phone calls and texts I am stuffed with love my mother sings to me before noon because that’s the rule the day sewn up with that half hour unplanned between stops a cinnamon bun an interview on the car radio indie filmmakers their journey makes my legs twitch with my own big dreams I had thought I would use the pocket of time to reflect before the year thaws into a murky version of itself but I am too fizzy for contemplation I unroll the window a man is picking avocados from the grocer’s basket on the sidewalk he is singing…

  • Sh'maya - Letter to America

    IndieFeed: Performance Poetry
    16 May 2012 | 2:00 am
    Sh'maya on IndieFeed Performance Poetry.  Show number 1020.

  • 15 May 2012 | 11:37 am

    fait accompli
    15 May 2012 | 11:37 am
    Food vouchers boost nutrition and markets in Somalia
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    bentlily | One poem a day

  • My unpredictable birthday moment

    Samantha Reynolds
    16 May 2012 | 2:03 am
    There is cake and my husband plants poems under my keyboard phone calls and texts I am stuffed with love my mother sings to me before noon because that’s the rule the day sewn up with that half hour unplanned between stops a cinnamon bun an interview on the car radio indie filmmakers their journey makes my legs twitch with my own big dreams I had thought I would use the pocket of time to reflect before the year thaws into a murky version of itself but I am too fizzy for contemplation I unroll the window a man is picking avocados from the grocer’s basket on the sidewalk he is singing…

  • Sunrise

    Samantha Reynolds
    15 May 2012 | 2:01 am
    If you are up before the sun you look at the other people who are also up with camaraderie the Chinese women doing tai-chi on the dock like slow-motion marionettes the jogger not a regular you can tell by the way he keeps looking at his watch the young father texting on his phone his baby curled up like a koala bear under his coat you share a secret with them that sleeping people don’t know just before the world gets its colour back the trees exhale and the air tastes like hope.

  • Audacious faith

    Samantha Reynolds
    14 May 2012 | 2:01 am
    The ducklings shoot across the lake like pinballs their mother bellows behind them a litany of quacks presumably about eagles and staying in line I feel for her but I can’t help but root for her babies such exhilaration in their feet racing into the newness I see it in my son too impervious to doubt he runs from one moment to the next convinced the world is waiting to show him more tricks watch his hands they grab at everything you think it’s curiosity but it’s more urgent than that it’s his spirit hungry as he shovels in life.

  • A poem is like a dog

    Samantha Reynolds
    13 May 2012 | 2:01 am
    A poem is like a dog you think you are taking him to the lake but he stops at a shrub decides it is ravishing and the lake is not a character in this story after all so it is with the words that climb down out of your head you think you are going to write about your mother on Mother’s Day but you can’t stop thinking about how you heard on the radio today that the sun will boil away the ocean in a billion years which is a long ways off but it still makes you irritated for a reason you will never get to the bottom of and in the end your poem takes you by the neck and says you threw a party…

  • A strange heartache

    Samantha Reynolds
    12 May 2012 | 2:01 am
    You used to be scared of the moon but now it’s a homely old ball a sticker pressed against the night sky as common as toast it’s airplanes now that drive your head into my neck squealing part elation part dread who can blame you these birds that roar over our house we tell you that you’ve been inside one but this seems to make it worse I wonder later if you were trying to remember the day you were eaten by a bird the truth is I don’t work very hard to allay your fear you move so much these days when you do burrow into me I lose my words a strange heartache in the ephemeral…
 
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Poem of the Day

  • Poem of the Day: Dream Song 14

    Nina Alvarez
    4 May 2012 | 7:36 pm
    Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so. After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns, we ourselves flash and yearn, and moreover my mother told me as a boy (repeatingly) ‘Ever to confess you’re bored means you have no Inner Resources.’ I conclude now I have no inner resources, because I am heavy bored. … And the tranquil hills, & gin, look like a drag and somehow a dog has taken itself & its tail considerably away into mountains or sea or sky, leaving behind: me, wag. -John Berryman Filed under: poem, poem of the day, poet, poetry, words, Write, Writer, writing

  • Winner of the 5th-Anniversary Poetry Contest

    Nina Alvarez
    8 Mar 2012 | 3:37 pm
     I am pleased as punch to introduce you to Martin Bartels, winner of our 5th-Anniversary Poetry Contest. Martin’s poem “At the End of the Day” not only offers a sense of discovery to the reader, but it plucks at that certain string – an air of plenitude maybe – native to so many of the poems collected here.  And it ends with two lines that may be my new favorites. So now, with no further ado, I proudly present our winner… At the End of the Day   A simple place to write with a friendly pub nearby. Land to grow vegetables and herbs for our evening…

  • Submit Your Poem for the 5-Year Anniversary of NinaAlvarez.net

    Nina Alvarez
    6 Mar 2012 | 9:29 pm
    I honestly cannot believe it. In 2007, two days before my 29th birthday, I wrote this post, welcoming the world to NinaAlvarez.net, my first blog. Now, with over 130,000 hits and long lists of wonderful readers and thoughtful, engaged commentary, NinaAlvarez.net really lives separately from me. I feel that the creation of this site and everything that happens here has had very little to do with me and more to do with the spirit of poetry. So much more powerful and intoxicating and healing than our current paradigm can make sense of. All I know is, the more I stay out of the way, the better.

  • Poem of the Day: By Candlelight

    Nina Alvarez
    8 Feb 2012 | 12:52 pm
    This is winter, this is night, small love – A sort of black horsehair, A rough, dumb country stuff Steeled with the sheen Of what green stars can make it to our gate. I hold you on my arm. It is very late. The dull bells tongue the hour. The mirror floats us at one candle power. This is the fluid in which we meet each other, This haloey radiance that seems to breathe And lets our shadows wither Only to blow Them huge again, violent giants on the wall. One match scratch makes you real. At first the candle will not bloom at all – It snuffs its bud To almost nothing, to a dull blue…

  • Poem of the Day: The Middle Is Twilight

    Nina Alvarez
    31 Jan 2012 | 10:28 pm
    Twilight is a threshold time, a corridor, a port, a melting pot, a thing sublime, where light and dark consort. It is a grail, a cup, for dual absolutions. It softens stark extremes and beckons toward solutions. The hero wakes in twilight, past crushing, clashing rocks. In his begging bowl is insight, carried home to feed the flocks. In days gone by, this hero was the seer, was the sage. Now, he’s a twilight poet, who sings to a twilight age. Find his middle way, and its truth that does denote us. For at twilight’s balance point, dwells the jewel within the lotus. -Michael Haugh I am…
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Wade on Birmingham » Daily Haiku

  • what to do with ripe tomatoes

    Wade
    16 May 2012 | 12:00 am
    Plump tomatoes blush with naked abandon, as they get downright sauced. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.

  • the boy in the mirror

    Wade
    15 May 2012 | 10:52 am
    Looking into the glass, I spy a trembling lad staring at the floor. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.

  • the war on learning

    Wade
    14 May 2012 | 12:00 am
    Who can excel when children fight viciously and parents defend them? Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.

  • beginner’s curve

    Wade
    13 May 2012 | 12:00 am
    Pressure for the slow witted and tardy, racing to stay average. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.

  • spas like us

    Wade
    12 May 2012 | 12:00 am
    The mud is relaxed. The towels, fluffed and piled high. Bring us a chai tea. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Lorna Dee Cervantes

  • Where In The World Is Lorna? San Jose Community College TONIGHT 6:30

    10 May 2012 | 3:53 pm
    Join me TONIGHT, 6:30-8:30 pm. I'll be returning to where it all began: San Jose "City College" where I studied with Rose Higashi, Richard Regua, Mr. Gutierrez & others; where I performed with Teatro Conciente in a drama workshop with Adrian Vargas in Mexico in the summer of '74, where I read my poetry on stage between our 2 actos & was approached by Juan Bruce-Novoa from Yale (RIP), Nicolas Kanellos of Revista Chicano-Riqueña, now Arte Publico Press, publisher of my 2nd book, and an editor from El Excelsior where I saw my first published poem. I'll be reading from new & old work. I'll have…

  • Lorna Dee Cervantes, CSU-EB Distinguished Writer Reading TONIGHT, 4/16, Hayward & Pegasus Books, Berkeley, 4/18

    16 Apr 2012 | 2:03 pm
    I'm looking forward to seeing all you East & South Bay folk & friends TONIGHT, 7pm, at the library at Cal State East Bay, Hayward, where I'll be reading for their Distinguished Writers Series. FREE! Come and say "hello!" I'll also be reading poetry in Berkeley on Wednesday, April 18, 7pm at Pegasus Books for their "Lyrics & Dirges" series . You know I write plenty of both.I'll be reading from my new book, CIENTO: 100 100-Word Love Poems, and from a brand new book forthcoming from Wings Press, SUEÑO: 30-Something Of The Cruelest; poems I wrote in the month of April for NaPoWriMo, which is…

  • Lorna Dee Cervantes Hosts New Open Mic w/ Jim Powell 3/7

    5 Mar 2012 | 12:34 pm
    Lorna Dee Cervantes to Host New Poetry Open Mic Series, "ALLEY CAT POETS IN THE MISSION" with Jim Powell & Special Surprise Guest, 3/7, 6-8 pmInternationally acclaimed Mission poet, Lorna Dee Cervantes hosts new open mic series, "Alley Cat Poets In The Mission" showcasing exceptional poets & their books along with some surprise special guests! This event is the 1st Wednesday of every month. Come and join us with a poem for the seasonal theme.The Alley Cat Poets In The Mission Series begins Wednesday, March 7, 6-8PM, featuring Lorna Dee Cervantes, MacArthur Grant awardee Jim Powell, Special…

  • Lorna Dee Cervantes TONIGHT UC Berkeley Featured Poet, Holloway Poetry Series, 315 Wheeler Hall, 6:30 pm!

    26 Jan 2012 | 2:24 pm
    TONIGHT! THURS, Jan 26, 6:30 pm, UC Berkeley Campus, Wheeler Hall, Maude Fife Room 315. FREE! Lorna Dee Cervantes will be the first Featured Poet for the Holloway Series in Poetry, reading with PhD student poet, Javier O. Huerta. (Look us up on Facebook!) I hope to see you all there! Tell your friends! I'll have copies of my new book, CIENTO: 100 100-WORD LOVE POEMS and, if they arrive, copies of the collection of critical essays on my new work, STUNNED INTO BEING: Essays on the Poetry of Lorna Dee Cervantes which includes recent interviews. I'll be reading mostly new work tonight, including…

  • "More Than 100 Facts For The 99%"

    30 Nov 2011 | 3:00 pm
    More Than 100 Facts For the 99%Ninety nine percent of all life formsthat have ever existed are now extinct.99% of The Universe is plasma.Ninety nine percent of all schoolshave computers. 99% of all Shakespeare'splays have been tapped out by virtual monkeys.Ninety nine percent of all Santas are jolly,merry and kind-hearted. 99% of alllawyers give the rest a bad name.Ninety nine percent of all felonies are settledby plea bargaining. 99% of all problems in communication start with misunderstandings.Ninety nine percent of all marijuana eradicated in the US is feral. 99% of all new online…
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Surroundings

  • The Fleck Pizza

    Rob
    14 May 2012 | 1:04 pm
    Look, here comes a flying saucer, FLECKon top in chopped tricolour peppers!He has arranged them this way:the pizza a self-addressed valentine,rehearsal for the real thing.- from 'The Bank, part 2' in Fleck and the Bank This pizza tasted pretty good!

  • Jessie J, Price Tag and Poetry

    Rob
    12 May 2012 | 3:26 am
    Here are a few statistics. Two years and four months ago, I made a video of myself reading a poem. It wasn’t a professional job, just my stepson holding a video camera and me standing in a blizzard reading ‘White Noise’. I guess there is a certain humour about it as the snow beats down on me and the book (which I had to cover in clingflim to save it from disintegration), but there is no other concession to the entertainment industry. I uploaded the video to YouTube where it has received 421 views. Not bad for poetry – that’s about one view every day and half.Contrast this with a…

  • A Reading, Two Magazines, and Literature Night

    Rob
    10 May 2012 | 9:33 am
    This Sunday, 13th May at 7.30pm, in Henderson's @ St John’s Cafe – that’s the Henderson’s beneath St John’s Church on the corner of Lothian Road and Princes St, Edinburgh – I’ll be reading along with AB Jackson, Roddy Lumsden and Kona Macphee. Entry is free. We will have books/pamphlets on sale, but you have my word that no one will be refused exit if they haven’t bought anything. Thanks are due to the Shore Poets who have allowed us to use their PA system - much appreciated. We could do with an audience though, so please come along! It's a fantastic, atmospheric venue with…

  • Magma, Fleck and More Shadow than Bird

    Rob
    9 May 2012 | 1:19 am
    I had been thinking of creating a new blog, a new start and all that, given that this one has been semi-abandoned in recent months, but that would make no sense. Instead, I’m going to re-launch Surroundings today and try to be more organised. I have had a fair bit on in recent months, which has made it almost impossible to blog. Until the end of April, I was tied-up with the co-editing (with Kona Macphee) of Magma 53, which is now hurtling towards production and will indeed be published on 28th May with a launch on 4th June at the Troubadour in London. I can’t give anything away yet, but…

  • Cameron and the Donkey

    Rob
    1 Apr 2012 | 4:23 am
    Prime Minister, David Cameron, today seems to have found himself embroiled in yet more unwanted controversy. Following shock claims that Cameron may have unwittingly ridden a journalist’s horse, the British Humanist Society claimed that the animal had not been a horse at all and that Cameron had in fact been attempting to re-enact Jesus’ entry into a palm-waving Jerusalem by riding a donkey through a field in rural Surrey.Although Cameron initially denied the claim, paparazzi from a British tabloid produced photographic evidence of the donkey (below).It’s also been alleged that the…
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    GotPoetry.com News

  • RHS senior in finals of national poetry contest

    16 May 2012 | 1:50 am
    Poetry News: Daphnee R. McMaster, a senior at Reading High School who won the state finals of the 2012 Poetry Out Loud National Recitation Contest, competed in the national championship Tuesday in Washington, where she was among the nine finalists.Link!

  • Appalachian anthology available

    16 May 2012 | 1:49 am
    Poetry News: This volume is a collection of Appalachian stories, essays, poetry, and photographic art, which focuses both on the region and the literary art of poet and novelist Ron Rash.Link!

  • Poets & Writers: Call for Entries!

    16 May 2012 | 1:48 am
    The Dream Quest One Poetry & Writing Contest is open to anyone who loves expressing thoughts and feelings into the beautiful art of poetry or writing a short story that is worth telling everyone! And to all who have the ability to dream… Write a poem or short story for a chance to win cash prizes. All works must be original. www.dreamquestone.com

  • Annual Roethke birthday bash in Saginaw features poetry reading to the Saginaw R

    15 May 2012 | 10:30 pm
    Poetry News: April's release of the Theodore Roethke postage stamp turned the Pulitzer Prize-winning poet's Saginaw homestead into a hub of activity and its organizers tired yet happy hosts.Link!

  • Larry Wilson: Quidditch and epic poems at LitFest Pasadena 1.0

    15 May 2012 | 10:29 pm
    Epic poems take awhile to write. Peck's idea is to launch the LitFest Pasadena Poetry Prize, with separate categories for schoolchildren and for adults. Establish a committee of judges. Make it a fun assignment - ...Link!
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    the amandzing way

  • i’m so fucking over you

    amandzing
    6 May 2012 | 1:41 am
    you bastard it wasn’t me who put the gun in her hand wrapped around the butt of your revolver which she pointed at her head exploded and then left me to wash our mother’s life off the walls soaking into the wooden floors me that all these years i’ve wasted waiting for to you to give me a chance to say i’m sorry but not I’m going to wallow in your indignant silence because I tried to reach out before i tried to put you away with my pointless guilt should weigh you down to your knees as you remember it wasn’t me who put the gun in her hand all I did was go to the morgue choose the…

  • when lovers fight

    amandzing
    25 Apr 2012 | 10:01 pm
    sometimes my skin is thinner than the tears i leak wish my skin was thicker than the blood i bleed when you whip me with your tongue flails me with your snarling anger puts me on the defensive turns into offensive words boil in angry over-reaction overwhelms and chokes spiteful bitchiness trembles in anticipation threatens loss of control this mouth full of poison fangs leave me exposed I fold in to me, myself i think it’s safer to be behind my wall at least the  dark between us hides my tears Tagged: africa, african poet, anger, fear, love life, love the world, pain, poem, poems, Poetry,…

  • ol’ broken eyes

    amandzing
    18 Apr 2012 | 11:50 pm
    my eyes are broken i’m here again where they can’t see me again and they’re connected to my brain again again again again my brain is disconnected from this shell again remotely accessible via third party dysmorphia don’t recognise my hands function by e-mail ten lifetimes behind my mind as it threatens to emote via emotion controlled remote is any of this making sense that something lies ahead a friend once said I could be great all this does is grate i’d settle for functionally connected Tagged: african poet, fear, freedom, insanity, johannesburg, poem, poems, south africa,…

  • short memories

    amandzing
    17 Nov 2011 | 7:59 am
    Absolutely disgusting. Lesbians as Rabbis? Its a ‘bizayom she ayn kemoh’(sic). To jump on the Torah in the name of Judaism? What do they think they are doing? And ,just a thought, if they are lesbians, and she had a baby, who was the father? I know of another religion that started that way…. And in Judaism, a woman that is promiscuous is called a ‘zona’. Not the type one wants as a spiritual leader of a community. disgrace of note nothing nothing can compare to this disgrace this abomination is shaking with rage i want to scream rant and rave women who dont…

  • 15 minutes of fame

    amandzing
    4 Nov 2011 | 5:43 pm
    15 minutes of fame thats all it really is but making a tangible difference is a feeling that lasts forever a rare chance a rarer feeling but i like it A hunch helped her find stolen car November 4 2011 at 01:32pm By Shaun Smillie It was a journalist and the power of social media that did what helicopters and the police couldn’t – track down model Lee-Anne Liebenberg’s husband’s hijacked car. Nicky van der Walt was hijacked in the driveway of his Hurlingham residence at about midday on Tuesday. Moments after the two hijackers made off with Van der Walt’s Rolex watch and Range Rover,…
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    international exchangefor poetic invention

  • NEW OBJECTIVISMS

    13 May 2012 | 11:36 am
    Rome, May 17-18, Piazza Campitelli 3 Sala Capizucchi, Centro di Studi italo-francesi NUOVI OGGETTIVISMI NEW OBJECTIVISMS NOUVEAU OBJECTIVISMES _ International Symposium organised by Cristina Giorcelli and Luigi Magno panels & readings at http://www.scribd.com/doc/92361397/Roma-17-18-maggio-2012-NUOVI-OGGETTIVISMI#fullscreen texts in English/Italian/French will be available * Benoît Auclerc (Université Jean Moulin – Lyon III), Cecilia Bello Minciacchi (Sapienza – Università degli Studi), Annalisa Bertoni (École Supérieure…

  • Plebella 25 números. Muestra Ilustraciones de Eduardo Zabala

    3 May 2012 | 5:54 pm

  • LOCOMOTRIX / Amelia Rosselli

    15 Mar 2012 | 7:05 pm
    New Book from the University of Chicago Press A musician, musicologist, and self-defined “poet of research,” Amelia Rosselli (1930–96) was one of the most important poets to emerge from Europe in the aftermath of World War II. Following a childhood and adolescence spent in exile from Fascist Italy between France, England, and the United States, Rosselli was driven to express the hopes and devastations of the postwar epoch through her demanding and defamiliarizing lines. Rosselli’s trilingual body of work synthesizes a hybrid literary heritage stretching from Dante and the…

  • En el idioma y en la tierra

    1 Mar 2012 | 1:36 pm
    I just had a beautiful bilingual edition of my poems published by Conaculta in Mexico City.  Many thanks to the publisher and to Maria Baranda, the amazing poet who translated the work.  It's called En el idioma y en la tierra (In Idiom and Earth) and consists primarily of works that appeared in Winter Mirror (Flood Editions, 2002), Poems in Spanish (Omnidawn, 2005), and Edge and Fold (2006).  I'm pasting in the Spanish version of "Driver's Song" as an example.  The book was published last week but will probably not be available to the public for a few weeks.

  • Forsla fett/Transfer Fat by Aase Berg

    20 Feb 2012 | 9:24 am
    You can now buy my translation of seminal contemporary Swedish poet Aase Berg's third book, Forsla fett ("Transfer Fat") at the Ugly Duckling Presse site: http://www.uglyducklingpresse.org/catalog/browse/item/?pubID=211And you can read "Forest of Flinches," Joyelle McSweeney's analysis of the book on Montevidayo: http://www.montevidayo.com/?p=2535
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Poetry of Life

  • The War Within

    Praveen
    11 May 2012 | 1:41 am
    I am supposed to be happy, on the brink of something new, exciting and life changing, a moment of unprecedented magnitude; but here i am sulking, sad, angry and confused, it’s as if happiness and sadness are waging a pitched battle in my mind; i sat watching, numb, cold and powerless, as my spirit tried [...]

  • You, Me and Us

    Praveen
    2 May 2012 | 5:19 am
    walking up and down the corridor, waiting for you, i begin to realize how much i love you! together in happiness and sorrow, through the rain and the sun, holding hands together, we walked the earth; my heart starts pounding everytime you come near, and as i look into those eyes, i get lost; lost [...]

  • Love or Infatuation?

    Praveen
    20 Apr 2012 | 12:11 pm
    i was told it was love, a madness i was not willing to be drawn into, but the symptons said something else, i was told it was only love; my legs felt wobbly when she came near, i used to gaze at the ceiling, thinking all day of the times that i could spend with [...]

  • Confused

    Praveen
    27 Mar 2012 | 2:37 am
    sitting in the room, thinking about everything so far, i am beginning to wonder if life is supposed to be like this; high on a pedestal one day, kissing the dirt the next, the balance keeps tilting from the good to the bad; nobody said life would be easy and simple, but nobody said life [...]

  • I Am Waiting

    Praveen
    9 Mar 2012 | 1:20 am
    One, two, three, four, five, ten, twenty, thirty, forty… time ticks on slowly, minute by minute; as i pace up and down the corridor, i cannot help wonder how long? how much longer should i be waiting? as i wait, the stars have come out, and the moon shines bright, and the cold wind brushes [...]
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    world-class-poetry.com

  • Published: Twitpoems

    allen
    11 May 2012 | 12:08 pm
    Here’s a quick announcement. I just published Twitpoems, a collection of Twitter poems of 140 characters or less, at both Amazon and Smashwords. Available for the Kindle, the Nook, Apple’s iPad, Kobo, and other e-readers. In 2009 I conducted an experiment whereby I published one poem a day for about 6 months. Twitpoems represents one month of that effort – 30 complete Twitter poems. Please join me as I continue my journey into digital self-publishing. More to come. Related posts: Dinkle Dorkle And Other Nut Cases Free Poetry For Your Kindle – Today Only Twitter…

  • 10 Reasons Why You Should Publish On The Kindle

    allen
    8 May 2012 | 11:47 am
    E-books have gone mainstream and it didn’t really take long for it to happen. I’m amazed at the number of poets who don’t mind spending $200-$500 to have a book published in print that will only sell 50 copies, if that, and then not even consider publishing in an e-book format. They may get their investment back on their print book or they may not. I have nothing against self-publishing. Some of the most read poets in history were self-publishers. I won’t go through the list. You know them. Instead, I’ll tell you why you should publish your books for the Kindle.

  • Free Poetry For Your Kindle – Today Only

    allen
    6 May 2012 | 8:26 am
    Today only, you can get Twitter Poems for the Kindle for free. Act before midnight PSD. Twitter Poems is the genesis of the #twitpoem project, which I started in April 2009. These 30 poems were published one day at a time on Twitter during the month of April 2009. All are 140 characters or less. I’d be honored if you’d check them out. If you do read them, will you also write an Amazon review? You don’t have to own a Kindle to read a Kindle book. You can download the free Kindle app for your PC. So now that you have no excuse, will you read Twitter Poems? Related posts: Here,…

  • Poetry Books For $1

    allen
    4 May 2012 | 12:15 pm
    If you like poetry books – and who doesn’t? – then you’ll love a new website that I’ve built called $1 Dollar Books. As you can guess, it’s a site devoted entirely to selling books for $1 each, plus shipping & handling. That includes poetry books and books in other genres. I have upwards of 1,000 books that I’ll be uploading to this site as a I go, so feel free to check on it often. Currently, I’ve got a handful of poetry and fiction books listed, and one history book. I’ve got a box full of more poetry and fiction titles that…

  • Dinkle Dorkle And Other Nut Cases

    allen
    3 May 2012 | 2:02 pm
    In 2009 I undertook an experiment publishing Twitter poems. I called them Twitpoems and created the #twitpoem hashtag for that purpose. The concept was real simple. Poems consisted of 140 characters or less. At the end of each virtual line I add a / to designated to readers that there would be a line break if they were reading the poem in print. // represented a stanza break. So a Twitpoem would look like this: This is a poem/that I wrote/for you.//I hope you like it. Then I’d add the #twitpoem hashtag at the end. It seems silly, but I had fun writing these for several months. Then I…
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Poems and Poetics

  • A Letter to David McAllester 1968 on the Beginnings of Total Translation

    Jerome Rothenberg
    15 May 2012 | 8:12 am
    please note. a list of postings after january 12, 2012 can be foundhereBox 117Steamburg, N.Y. 14783July 23, 1968Dear Dave –            It’s being a very good summer here in all ways, & I’m certainly getting a much clearer picture of the possibilities & limits of carrying on this kind of work on the spot – of my doing it, that is.  The best results so far are with Dick Johnny John – who’s to be my Indian “father” – & that because he’s a natural translator himself & has become involved personally in…

  • From AMERICA A PROPHECY: Cotton Mather & Gertrude Stein revisited, toward an omnipoetics

    Jerome Rothenberg
    11 May 2012 | 5:29 am
    please note. a list of postings after january 12, 2012 can be foundhere                    for Susan Howe[note.  At a recent birthday celebration in my behalf, Susan Howe looked back at America a Prophecy, the anthology/assemblage that George Quasha and I composed & first published in 1973, & called special attention to the juxtaposition in its pages of short pieces by Cotton Mather and Gertrude Stein.  It struck me then, as never before, how close America a Prophecy was to my…

  • Outsider Poems, A Mini-Anthology in Progress (37) Eleven Pai-Hua (Colloquial) Poems

    Jerome Rothenberg
    7 May 2012 | 8:11 am
    please note. a list of postings after january 12, 2012 can be found hereAnonymous (Chinese, 20th century)18 year-old-girl,3 year-old boy:he pees & shitsin his pajamas, has to be carried off& tucked into bed.sleeps until midnight, then it’s milk he wants.whippity-whaps!(2 little slaps), – “I’m your wife,not your mother!”                                    (Northern China)if you have a daughterdon’t…

  • Hiromi Itō: from Wild Grass on the Riverbank

    Jerome Rothenberg
    3 May 2012 | 8:31 am
    please note. a list of postings after january 12, 2012 can be found hereMichiyukiBy late summer, everyone on the riverbank was dead,Not just the once living creatures, but the summer grass, the rusted bicycles, the summer grass,Cars without doors or windows, the warped porn magazines, the summer grass,Empty cans with food stuck inside and empty bottles full of muddy water, Girl’s panties and condoms, the dead body of father, and so much summer grassThe riverbank meant only to control youThe summer grass touched our bodiesThe seeds falling down onto our bodiesRecently, on the bank, I noticed…

  • Jerome Rothenberg: Seven Flag Poems

    Jerome Rothenberg
    30 Apr 2012 | 8:24 am
    please note. a list of postings after january 12, 2012 can be found hereLa Primaverasalute, compadres,the flag of the great            mother of us allthe goddess of americaraised highsalute her puffy& parched cheeks, her banners,nipples on the rise,the ever benign crocuses that markthe triumph of springin the beauty of the word primavera,the day is terminal,the goddess appearing for the partystumbles & retreats,she sends a spray into the air& lets it fall,sad & dependable,the civic band plays upthe stars &…
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Wild Horses Of Fire

  • Our Occupations (after the Occupations): with Kathy Westwater

    Thom Donovan
    7 May 2012 | 5:22 pm
    Something I am wondering about kind of broadly is how your practices might have changed since the beginning of the occupations, if we can mark this beginning in the fall of 2011 (the occupations obviously having their immediate precedent in the Middle East and Europe).Do you think it may be possible to speak to this a bit? […] Succinctly, in a paragraph or two? Maybe it has had no perceivable effect, which is fine of course, and in which case you might talk about why it is important to maintain what you are doing parallel to (or beyond?) current social movements and political…

  • Our Occupations... (at Harriet)

    Thom Donovan
    3 May 2012 | 4:51 pm
    For National Poetry Month at Harriet I conducted a survey with the following prompt: Something I am wondering about kind of broadly is how your practices might have changed since the beginning of the occupations, if we can mark this beginning in the fall of 2011 (the occupations obviously having their immediate precedent in the Middle East and Europe).Do you think it may be possible to speak to this a bit? […] Succinctly, in a paragraph or two? Maybe it has had no perceivable effect, which is fine of course, and in which case you might talk about why it is important to maintain what you are…

  • No Milk Today

    Thom Donovan
    11 Apr 2012 | 7:52 pm
    --for Rich OwensFor which I will have been writingA song to kill the messageThat poetry only play Dead here is another disaster We have recourse to worldsMultiple of hair Of milk that won’t arrive There is a breath that won’t arrive There is action there is spring It has passed us by again Like some parental spiritTo make words tolerable If we sit on the barricades long enoughMaybe someone will have met us thereIf I squat in this book maybe it will rise More precious than ideas of fleshGathering arms against those winters pastFucked up like little songs we can’t Sing this world is gone…

  • Lyric's Potential (@ J2)

    Thom Donovan
    2 Apr 2012 | 9:09 am
    http://jacket2.org/commentary/lyrics-potential

  • Envoi (@ Evening Will Come)

    Thom Donovan
    1 Apr 2012 | 11:59 am
    http://www.eveningwillcome.com/mainpage.htmlLike a dewy abstraction, palpableAnd numinous, touches feeling—“It evanesces”—those feelings touch facts Outnumbering them, Hope would not be an Ally here if I missed anything, If this long poem—draft of a draft of a draft—were Not the part taken for the wholeA remnant metonymizingThe accelerated time-lapse of a devastation more Total than “the end of the world”
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    A window Within Myself

  • ~ Touch A Woman ~

    8 May 2012 | 1:39 pm
    Hands, a photo by Lupe Jelena on Flickr.When you touchTouch a womanFeel her strengthLinger a little,Into her soulSwim into her beautyYou'll be in the waterThat’s when you'll taste,The aroma of herIts the smell of oceanThe water of who she isStill yet you will findThere is pearl of youHidden so deep,In the womb of her ocean,Within precious line of her soulAnd if you don’t understandAll this poetic wordsTouch a women's soulOnly then you'll comprehendThe deep meaning of my wordsWhen you touchTouch a womanGaze a little into her painThat’s only when you'll knowWhy she is a womanYou'll see…

  • ~Its About Hope~

    4 May 2012 | 4:03 pm
    Red Dawn, a photo by -yury- on Flickr.I’m singing HopeSparkling through The cloudy night Rising dawn Absorbing darkness I’m a firm believerThat hope strikes through A sunshine fading the night Evidently I’m here Over all the turbulent skyI’m singing hope Look at it: A new journey Is just right here Turning to be a new beginningDeserving to be a song of hope Copyright 2012, Nasra Al Adawi

  • There is no story

    30 Mar 2012 | 3:19 pm
    Scars or shields / Cicatrices o escudos, a photo by victor_nuno on Flickr.It took me a long moment to think what I would like to write over here. What does this photo represent and the message that I want to carry on here. Is a story of woman worn out and chipped off and unable to glue back on what had occurred in the past. Or purely just a story of a wood that her time is approaching to an end and that the fate of life is ending here. Wooden chips are torn out from her soul. Remaining thin-skinned exposed but silently resisting and accepting this fate remain absolute hard. Who would easily…

  • Is It Something To Be Angry About

    20 Mar 2012 | 12:09 pm
    Woman's eye closed, a photo by Itani stock photos on Flickr.I don’t know how many who feels like this….Can you blame me if I feel tired of being a woman…As I stood in mid of court ..To defend a principle that I’m a good wife ..And wearing abaya ..Really does not translate being a good wife..Sharia did not state all women have to wear abaya ..So lets close the case and lets live on..They say please your husband..What about his bonding words..Agreement from beginning of a marriage..He accepted that I do not wear abaya..Let me be the decision maker for wanting to wear abaya or not… How…

  • ~Tough Moments~

    20 Mar 2012 | 11:03 am
    When writing gets tough It’s Mr. Poetry had taken off How could I be desertedSo I call on you Mr. PoetryIts tough to be without you Feeling alone without wordsHere the end of a poetSo to take me onA room to lean on you As I’m no longer Nasra Without your inspirational wordsNor poetic thoughts That keeps me really going So when writing gets tough Inspire me with words Allow me to birth poetry That’s when I amIn tip of sublime existence Copyright 2012 Nasra Al Adawi  
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Sad Poems

  • Petitions of If

    13 May 2012 | 11:00 pm
    how close we were. to knowing. the whims of dead men. the question resolves to what we are. Hem on the edge of the world.the chase. the absent sermons of self. Heavy springs. Not inclined to give.The monster. Lips stern with decision. The hours. Gentle and keen. As they slit her wrists. Numbers she says. But words are what she whispers. When no one is listening.The trial. The purchase of skin. In places I'll never go. In journeys I'll never finish. The numbers in calm excuses. The certain arithmetic of when we knew. how close we were. how far we'd come. Her cunt presses hard against the wall.

  • Time Dilation

    10 May 2012 | 11:15 pm
    I would measure him in stutters. A focused repetition. Like everything must be. Loud and feeble. Keys stuck in the lock and soiled  handles. Short drives that take too long. We're always going to or leaving. Never are. There. As if there is a place. A black stab on a map. Where it all converges. The crumbles of flesh and the gnashing of touch and the speed of the hours. In a beautifully controlled chaos called destination. I would draw him in pencil. No colors. Just grey. Soft mutable lines. To trace the whisper of his words. The frail thunder in his voice as he would gently drift away.

  • Infinite Particles

    7 May 2012 | 11:56 pm
    control decides her. failing clocks. struggle toward the twelve. in a slump of hunger. as loud as it is quiet. onion paper and velvet thumbs. fingernails of the monster. for the girl to chew on.her skin defers to marrow and bone. the hard. the center. viscous and urgent with empty weapons. bloodless wars in silent parchment. each hour softly stabs at the growing hole.skin is rapid. touch is adamant. vague ghosts shelter in the folds. of words soft and eager zippers. Too easily undone.  By salted thumbs and sober fences. The clever lies that make the world hum. In shallow whispers. Filthy…

  • Predatory Piss

    7 May 2012 | 6:13 pm
    color and conundrum. the grave spark. beautiful witches. all their warts listening. eyes open. lips thin. a rainbow of vaginas. to quench thirsty dicks.she tells me to wait. count the squares. as the pebble stumbles. a flourish of flesh. the rumble of touch. on the scab of her kiss. the pertinent drama of want. in a thunder of touch. i wait for her to feel the weight of the monster. as the slope steepens.small pegs. big holes. cardboard and Ferris wheels. in a frenzy of mucous. alone. apple pie and venison. layers. scotch tape fingers and checkerboard kisses. he prepares for the winter. one…

  • Jack and Jill

    6 May 2012 | 12:04 am
    yellow. the outside curdles. the monsters under her skin. the vultures. her choices. like obituaries. too late. the world in simple villains. Heroes not withstanding. the soil choked with footprints. Places to go.the window. the fever of the glass. as it ignites. seldom notes. scribbled in ink. the clever math of prophets as the future gracelessly repeats. the comforting madness that is touch as it drowns in our scabsred like sirens. too loud to know. sweet like the apple that means to poison.Life is just like dying. Only messier.Her feeble sketches. Pretending to learn. And still failing…
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    anachronizms

  • mdcxlii

    15 May 2012 | 2:46 am
    humblyonce or twice the sunshinebut mostly the rain, whichdramatically anesthetizesbut i wanted to tell yousomething – when i wasseven with chicken poxi had a dreamand you were in iti knew you would be heresuddenly, as if all our skullsopen up to heaven and are filledwith our favorite wineryand cable car bells onpowell streetladybug umbrellaswith cleared-up skiesoh, skyand youdrinking up the baythis very minutea collageof all of your mostbeautiful posesmy brainis in heavenan airplanefloatingrainlessthrough bluejetstream

  • mdcxli

    14 May 2012 | 8:47 pm
    The Red Book of LoveReach into my pocket.  I’ve acrumpled dollar bill for love.I believe in the phoenixbehind the curtain.  Anda kiss that crumples roses(I wish I were a white rosefor you).  I love you likethe bookmarks of all of myfavorite boarded up book-stores.  Anyway, what do Iexpect to say, Smooch-of-Angel at stroke of midnight?I get lost on the tossed seas,I guess.  My spot on thecouch gets ever deeperas yours draws evernearer.

  • mdcxl

    13 May 2012 | 12:29 pm
    ...sense, hens: hence...        —Frank KuenstlerA bottle of smoochto the scary future.Color TV fog.  Ex-pect to pop champ-agne at midnight?This is the high-way for all phot-ographers. Strokeof rain, sometimesheavy, going up ahill.  Abrahamirritating Moses.Enough of that!

  • mdcxxxix

    12 May 2012 | 8:39 pm
    The face of time wants to be taggedas the face of a person.  Are these mygolden years?I just got cruised by a tall, lankywhite guy near the ruins of theSutro baths.  In the rain.  “Areyou a detective?” he asked.Last day of the year.  Timeto return the car, etc.  I’msitting with Otto on thecragged foundation of theold Sutro baths.  Bigwaves waltz in.  Onewish for the new year:collaboration (Otto’ssketching).  I justfell into the mud:whump!  Skinnedmy right palm.  &mud-covered.  Un-easy writing thenew year on therent…

  • mdcxxxviii

    11 May 2012 | 11:34 am
    Liquid TimeSo nice to see himafter the Xmasdepression.  Feel-ings.Cliff House.  Wehave joggers.Muscle up.Write them in-to the computer.Lists to rearrange;they could go on.Geese.  Two items.Message Yahoowithout cellphone.Firstly, afford acar.  Afford akitchen.  Dinneror a new printer?A palace inMilpitas.  It wasmy idea.  Cross-ing the SanMateo Bridge.The bridge Icame to San Fran-cisco on. My neck hurts.  The one Idedicated toAunt Wilmaright after she died.  Self-eval-uation.  I bought it.  And got cruised.My primary goal.
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    As/Is

  • Gobbet Mag and Mad Hatters Review Issue 13 Are Now Available Free On Line!

    Raymond Farr
    2 May 2012 | 8:14 am
    Check out Gobbet Mag. It publishes experimental poetry and dedicates each issue to a single poet. Then go to Mad Hatters Review. There you will find Poetry, Fiction, Art, Reviews, Multi Media etc.

  • 30 Apr 2012 | 12:52 pm

    Raymond Farr
    30 Apr 2012 | 12:52 pm
    Great news! Mark Young's Otoliths Issue 25 is up and on line! Check it out.

  • "Middle-Class Poetry in the United States" (adam fieled)

    P.F.S. Post
    21 Apr 2012 | 10:03 am
    How is it that poetry in the United States became mostly a middle-class edifice? If the American ideal is a bourgeois ideal (rather than the aristocratic ideal which held sway in England when the best English poetry was being written), it would stand to reason that the ideals which would bolster and prepare a foundation for American poetry would be bourgeois ideals as well. Americans, with

  • 17 Apr 2012 | 7:58 am

    Raymond Farr
    17 Apr 2012 | 7:58 am
    Caliban On Line #7 has just gone viral. It has a lot of great poetry. Take a moment and enjoy each syllable, word, line. Also take a peek at Blue & Yellow Dog #8. There is work too bold to imagine in this issue!You have to see it for yrself!

  • "The Birth of the (Higher) Arts from the Death of the Middle Class" (adam fieled)

    P.F.S. Post
    16 Apr 2012 | 10:52 am
    That bourgeois minds hate extremities is something of a commonplace. It is also well-known to scholars that major artists in the higher art-forms tend to live and work from the lower and higher classes, rather than the middle. The highest work in higher art-forms does tend to be extreme- forceful about imposing new forms, dramatic in execution, starkly rendered for full effect. It is well-known
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    The Blog of Lewd Enlightenment

  • THE AMAZING BACK

    14 May 2012 | 7:25 am
    First day back to workafter three days out due toa bad back If you've ever suffered disc painI don't need to tell you what a picnicit has NOT been Basically, I either slept— and with the new meds, horrific nightmares (one of which involved an apartment hunt with Oscar Madison)— or watched mostly horrendous movies onNetflix streaming, the new crack Imagining all the crap I won't be eating out of the vending machine in a desperate bid to lose someweight and give my spine a break at least until I can get that stuffthey swapped Wolverine's bones for installed Life is good

  • FATHER FLEW IN A YELLOW COMET, MOTHER RODE A GREAT MAROON CONTUSION

    12 May 2012 | 5:03 pm
    My portrait of the abused childalways features him or her chained to a radiatordrinking spoiled milk from a baby bottleIt took half a century for me to realize the inaccuracy We all still laugh when I recount the storyof how I sat up half the night at the dinner tablein front of a glass of milkI couldn't imagine drinkingfor the nausea it conjuredI don't recall why I was reprieved Milk always tasted rancid to meThe land of milk & honey?Who the fuck would want to go to such a place?I'd rather drink sandNo wonder I became a stumbling drunk No gestures or movements were smooth or easyno…

  • INWARD BOUND

    11 May 2012 | 9:46 am
    Wondrous is the word that best describes a hatgone missing in a commuter train wreckidentifying marks include a shit-eating grinWall Street Journal ink on the fingertipsthey are practically tattoos I worked there the summer beforethey hired the guy who killed and buried those itinerantstrying to get past the crime scene tapeto see if they had my Rock N Roll Animal CD in the lost & found I heard all about your conspiracy theorieson public access televisionI laughed long and loudyou looked so shrunken behind the podiumI couldn't help but think you were onto something

  • THE MYTH OF THE MYTHOMANIAC

    10 May 2012 | 10:19 pm
    I'm more into blue than whitecan you believe itwho is it that lives upstairsthose people don't matterthings tend to snowballwith no end in sightI've tried everythingthe epitome of filthhelp me instead of just staring at meget me to the beach on timeyou don't see things as they arethat's not really my cup of instantif anything tempts you take itthe bastard never recognized her

  • THE PALACE GARDEN IS HIDDEN IN THE CATHEDRAL'S SHADOW

    6 May 2012 | 10:08 pm
    Which is one way of wondering:Have you seen the trowel, o brother?And what of the hedge clippers? Turning away the priest who cameto bless the house—that blewthough he reminded me of Bud Abbott Counting gold fillings in the vaulton a Barcalounger throne,King shit sounds better than Prince shit The food taster took the day offfor a hot date with the altar boy:wine, candlelight and plenty of hosts All this is now public knowledgebecause I remembered it and am blabbing,those are the only reasons I have read the good book;To Kill a Mockingbird—Now that was a very good book.
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Carol Peters

  • Julie Carr

    10 May 2012 | 11:44 am
    Julie Carr’s Sarah — of Fragments and Lines, Coffee House, 2012]Conception Abstracts                            Heat teems from the meat of the form      Tame heat if tame form, if maimed form then fierce.                       Seems eaten, this mate, this timed tenant.Tenured member of my own passive nature, I tested thetine of the task. Desperate for some apt rapture, tappedthe lap of the master. Faster. Water and laughter, thelast splatter of…

  • Arecelis Girmay

    8 May 2012 | 2:12 pm
    [from Arecelis Girmay's Kingdom Animalia, BOA, 2011]Small Letterdo not go, this day, the redof bridges, my little, staybeside me overthe ruins of san francisco.go, but do not gofrom me, my one,my love, my very kinwho I laughed with in our sleepevery night, my dreambeside your dream, for a year.wrecking ball despedida, wreckthe great rooms in my chest & takemy last song, but do not leave meon this earth, my onewithout my one. how wouldthe hand ever live, if it knewit would never braid your hairagain, or hold your face?it would get up & walkaway forever then.one by one my…

  • Robert Duncan

    22 Mar 2012 | 5:05 pm
    [from Robert Duncan's The H. D. Book, California, 2012]Threads are spun out and are woven, from event into event. Hands work the dancing shuttles of a close net to make things real, to realize what is happening. A tapestry of a life appears in the mesh of many lives, a play. But just as when we weave a complex of lines a cloud or atmosphere appears, a texture or cloth, something more than the threads told, and out of that texture appear, not only the figures we were translating into our design, but other figures of the ground itself; so a “life” appears in the work itself. The…

  • João Cabral de Melo Neto

    28 Jan 2012 | 2:33 pm
    [from João Cabral de Melo Neto's Education by Stone: Selected Poems, tr. Richard Zenith, Archipelago, 2005]Party at the Manor House [excerpts](Congressional rhythm, Northeast accent)1– The sugar mill worker   in a large or small mill– Is the same mill worker   with a different rhyme.– The sugar mill worker   in a raw mill or refinery:– "Sugar mill worker"   is the crucial denominator.– Any sugar mill worker   from any Pernambuco:– When he says "sugar mill worker"   will have said…

  • João Cabral de Melo Neto

    20 Dec 2011 | 11:30 am
    [from João Cabral de Melo Neto in Twentieth-Century Latin American Poetry, ed. Stephen Tapscott, Texas, 1996]Weaving the Morning1.One rooster does not weave a morning,he will always need the other roosters,one to pick up the shout that heand toss it to another, another roosterto pick up the shout that a rooster before himand toss it to another, and other roosterswith many other roosters to criss-crossthe sun-threads of their rooster-shoutsso that the morning, starting from a frail cobweb,may go on being woven, among all the roosters.2.And growing larger, becoming a cloth,pitching itself a…
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Chicano Poet

  • 16 May 2012 | 1:10 am

    16 May 2012 | 1:10 am
    Rainy Day LoversBoy shots a rabbit in the head like Lorcahind legs twitchingthe space ship went cuckooas it sped along the groundother lovers inconspicuouslymake sandwolf windows were wildas I peered out nervouslymy own lover Ignacialay prone upon the bedher buttocksspoke imperial languageoutsidethe world kept on dressing in jerseysand the rainlowered itself on a rope

  • 14 May 2012 | 12:00 am

    14 May 2012 | 12:00 am
    LotharioMy chin on your  shoulder blade,I'm a pile-driver.A child with Jellopauses in mid-sentence in the other room again.My mind rockets into yesterday.In the calm that overwhelms,I am a bastard.Paper pours out of your smile,my bandits caress your jeans.You whip out a teddy bear snake,have the dog fixed,the cat de-meowed,our love-life will not bear fruit,you scream at the top of your lungs,while moleculesbounce above the shallow rings.

  • 11 May 2012 | 12:36 am

    11 May 2012 | 12:36 am
    Rock En RolFirst time I saw a Mexican dance rock en rol,I stood there with my mouth wide open.I was handed my first pair of dancing shoeswhen I turned ten.The barrio had not been invented yet.White snakes filled the land like dirt.A brown girl's petticoatfloated in the air like boats.Her partner yelled ajuaas he spun her top.I was too young to understand.I moved my hips awkwardly.I threw my head back too carefully,the first time I saw a Mexican dance rock en rol.

  • 9 May 2012 | 1:09 pm

    9 May 2012 | 1:09 pm
    Walking The DogMexicans don't walk their dogsand if they do they're agringados.The punksthrow rocks at a puppyas if the act was beautiful.A girl walks down the street,she's being paid lip service to.An odd time to thinkthat a strumpetsinks into the Rio Bravo like bread.I walk on stiltswithout my dog.It's either thisor synonyms.Mexicans don't walk their dogs---they're not that kind of race.

  • 8 May 2012 | 10:59 am

    8 May 2012 | 10:59 am
    El PopoIn a taco shirtthe unruly dirty waters mount.A sun-baked brickaddresses the crowd in frogsuit.Two dead teenage girlsdance mild salsa.Their pantieshidden up in the volcanic tubes.I take the traininto the snow.A peasant's chickenrecites Octavio Paz.Part bird myself,I'm overjoyed.There's been no crimecommitted in Mexico in decades,says the police chief,mimicking a brown snowball.
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    the dust congress

  • 15 May 2012 | 3:35 pm

    15 May 2012 | 3:35 pm
    The city clown will soon fall downWithout a face to hide inAnd he will lose if he won’t chooseThe one he may confide inMary Ellen Carroll, Federal (detail), 2003* David Markson on Malcolm Lowry's alcoholism:The man could not shave himself. In lieu of a belt, he knotted a rope or a discarded necktie around his waist. Mornings, he needed two or three ounces of gin in his orange juice if he was

  • 9 May 2012 | 7:37 pm

    9 May 2012 | 7:37 pm
    Pursue the small utopias: music, friendship, intimate loveKevin Tachman, Colombo Market, 2008 Drinking Like a Fish -- by William GreenwayThough blue at a distance, the surface is clear as gin with a tension that can bob you like an ice cube. What you really want, though, is to float below in chartreuse light, to glide through tonic bubbles above the swaying kelp, borne along on currents, while

  • 6 May 2012 | 11:30 pm

    6 May 2012 | 11:30 pm
    There's a portraitIn a back roomWhich I keep for days uponCarrie Schneider, Burning House (July, sunset), 2011* Listen: Ed Sanders on NPR.* Listen: Amazing collection of Bukowski readings.* "What's any artist but the dregs of his work?" -- William Gaddis

  • 4 May 2012 | 10:42 am

    4 May 2012 | 10:42 am
    the things that pass for knowledge I can't understandJosef Albers, Homage to the Square, 1967* On Big Star's Third:Third is an album of soft moonlight and deep black holes. It's the sound of confusion and dislocation. It's an album that sounds as if it was being demolished even as it was being recorded, where a heartstoppingly beautiful melody might at any moment be washed away by a scree of

  • 2 May 2012 | 11:19 am

    2 May 2012 | 11:19 am
    Her mind was dirty but her hands were clean at the Temple beautifulCara Ober, 2012Instructions for Angels- by Kenneth PatchenTake the useful eventsFor your tall. Red mouth.Blue weather.To hell with power and hate and warThe mouth of a pretty girl...The weather in the highest soul...Put the tips of your fingersOn a baby man;Teach him to be beautiful.To hell with power and hate and warTell God that
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Elsewhere

  • Facebook

    26 Apr 2012 | 10:07 pm
    Link to horrific news story involving American person/people? Check. Link to horrific news story involving Muslim person/people? Check. Link to sad story about passing of artist/cultural institution? Check. Funny word combo generator? Check. Inspirational words in knock-out white against colorful background? Check. Popular squirrel, cat, dog, other cute animals video? Check. Reading announcement? Check. Poetry panel announcement? Check. Link to article about/review of one's new book of poetry? Check. Quote from American modernist? Check. Quote from European modernist? Check. Quote from…

  • 16 Jun 2011 | 7:23 am

    16 Jun 2011 | 7:23 am
    Chris Marker PASSENGERS My review of Chris Marker's amazing PASSENGERS photography show and book (Peter Blum SoHo and Chelsea) is the cover story of Berlin film journal CARGO.

  • 8 Jun 2011 | 9:10 am

    8 Jun 2011 | 9:10 am
    ORIGINAL ART POETRY COMICS FOR SALE!click on image for legible reproI'm selling original artwork of the comics series The New Life that I've drawn for Rain Taxi since 1997. If you don't like the price of any piece, feel free to make me an offer!Go here to see available work and details.

  • 7 Jun 2011 | 7:28 am

    7 Jun 2011 | 7:28 am
    CAN BRAIN SURGERY MATTER?Brain surgery now belongs to a subculture. No longer part of the mainstream of medical life, it has become the specialized occupation of a relatively small and isolated group. Little of the frenetic activity it generates ever reaches outside that closed group. As a class brain surgeons are not without cultural status. Like priests in a town of agnostics, they still command a certain residual prestige. But as individual medical professionals they are almost invisible.No one knows how many brain surgeries take place each year, but surely the total must run into the tens…

  • 2 Oct 2010 | 10:16 am

    2 Oct 2010 | 10:16 am
    ORIGIN OF LANGPOFRANK O'HARA VS. ACADEMIAOriginal art for sale!"Why, when I'm done with that homosexual Irish-American icon ofpermissiveness, NO ONE will enjoy reading his poetry!"I've added six new pieces of original poetry comics art for sale to:NewLifeComic.blogspot.comAnd there are maybe 4 or 5 pieces from the two dozen that I posted amonth or so ago.Please visit! I need money! You need art!
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    The Endless Saga

  • 30 Apr 2012 | 10:39 am

    30 Apr 2012 | 10:39 am
    “Music is religion for me.”                     ---Jimi HendrixJimi used to say that, instead of notes and the like, he saw music in feeling and in colors. He was experiencing a spirituality through his art. And anyone who has ever watched him play would most likely agree. A rare genius he was, so much wisdom in so few years of life. He, like many others from his time, is imprinted on my soul. They come alive when I listen to the music.

  • The Thinker

    15 Apr 2012 | 12:37 am
    I am the thinkersome loathe my existencesome merely try to ignore it.I say things that othersare afraid to dream of.I am let loose on this world.the havoc of thought I leavein my wake lies scatteredin letters, words, and phrasesdays in dazes in misplaced spaces.(C) 2012 James Eric Watkins

  • Dedicated to Alex Ekstedt

    31 Mar 2012 | 12:57 am
    To the nephew I never knew:Happy Birthday Alex.Daddy misses you, and mommyMamaw and papaw and yourBubbies do too.I never saw you but nowYou run and play, smile, andDance inside my daily thoughts.Your energy is still hereJust as you always have beenLove keeps you alive.You Riseto higher planeswe can only watch.

  • Today's Tornadoes

    2 Mar 2012 | 6:39 pm
    a noresponsive babyfound in the middle of a fieldnobody knows who the parents areour fire station was destroyedanother whole town leveledthe storm is overwe heard the half-mile widetwister roaring in the neardistance as we prayedfor our lives andthe lives of those we loveas the trees were snatched into the airbarns and trailerssmashed. Stop signsripped into halfGod has spunhis hands. Spinningdown upon the landmangled piecesof yesterday’s lifeare all that remainsthe radio saidthat there weremore babies foundWe the peoplegather our deadand cry over themclean up the landand wind downfrom the…

  • torn

    26 Jan 2012 | 4:35 pm
    putting a life back togetheris like putting together the piecesof a photograph torn in twoyou line the pieces upso that they make sense againand the crack that once toreyou in two becomes nota separation, but a life lesson.
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    gravity and light

  • Demeter to Persephone by Alicia Suskin Ostriker

    6 May 2012 | 10:55 am
    I watched you walking up out of that holeAll day it had been rainingin that field in Southern Italyrain beating down making puddles in the mudhissing down on rocks from a sky enragedI waited and was patientfinally you emerged and were immediately soakedyou stared at me without love in your large eyesthat were filled with black sex and white powderbut this is what I expected when I embraced youYour firm little breasts against my amplitudeGet in the car I saidand then it was spring

  • Indigo Ink Press Launch Party for Paper Covers Rock, Oct. 21

    23 Oct 2011 | 5:04 pm
    Here's the video I made for the launch party. I read two poems from Paper Covers Rock: "Poland" & "Forty." My first self-made video that I also uploaded on You Tube today.

  • My Latest Chapbook of Poetry

    30 Sep 2011 | 10:55 pm
    September 30: Official Launching of My Chapbook: Paper Covers RockIndigo Inkhttp://www.indigoinkpress.org/flip-edition/Amazon http://www.amazon.com/Paper-Covers-Rock-Triplicity-Threes/dp/0982833016/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1317491677&sr=8-2 Dave Bonta's Videocasthttp://www.vianegativa.us/2011/09/woodrat-podcast-44-reversible-books/Reviews of Paper Covers Rock “A dazzle and a delight, Chella Courington’s poetry will carry you through the brave discoveries of adolescent sex, then turn around and chill you with what she knows of being a grown woman, then turn again and…

  • Tom Waits on Being Called a Poet

    28 Sep 2011 | 2:12 pm
    Inebreational Travelogue: Tom Waits on Being Called a PoetBY HARRIET STAFFNancy Smith wrote a review at The Rumpus that celebrates Tom Waits and the book Tom Waits on Tom Waits. In said book Waits weighs in on the many things he’s been called over the years, namely “poet.”See:It’s almost impossible to write an apt description of Waits, but every journalist in this collection makes a worthy attempt. Some of my favorites: “A mumbling sot on stage.” “A collector and researcher of bawdy stories.” “A half-buzzed derelict with the voice of a bulldozer.” “A…

  • "Poems are a form of texting"

    19 Sep 2011 | 11:54 am
    Dear Readers,About two weeks ago, the Poet Laureate of Great Britain, Carol Ann Duffy, said: ""The poem is a form of texting ... it's the original text. It's a perfecting of a feeling in language – it's a way of saying more with less, just as texting is. We've got to realise that the Facebook generation is the future – and, oddly enough, poetry is the perfect form for them. It's a kind of time capsule – it allows feelings and ideas to travel big distances in a very condensed form." Joanna Moorheadguardian.co.uk, Monday 5 September 2011  I thought about Duffy's…
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    rooted

  • conversing with the fire

    gautami tripathy
    13 May 2012 | 1:33 pm
    when I heard time to say goodbye crimson tears flowed freely no, you cannot see those they are flowing in the inside that crunch in my heart you cannot hear I don't expect you too I am... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]

  • strings

    gautami tripathy
    13 May 2012 | 1:03 pm
    The Meal, 1891, by Paul Gauguin  I offer that sacred bowl to the goddess I let the rituals take over my senses I might not understand its significance yet I cut fruits into strings I do... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]

  • winter has only just begun

    gautami tripathy
    6 May 2012 | 11:55 am
    you float in and out more out than in I try to hold the wild images chasing images merge into the walls that sense of lost intangibles submerges into depression shadows of your translucent... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]

  • trellis tampers nature

    gautami tripathy
    6 May 2012 | 11:07 am
    water vibrates with sky I watch the emerging stream my mind aligns it with the trees contrast of the blooms winks at you I see clear dots of nature  in the cobalt blue of your eyes you... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]

  • drowning words

    gautami tripathy
    30 Apr 2012 | 11:02 am
    image by Manu Pombrol eyes fixed on the book I sit in bottled sea reminiscing about squandered time green moss follows me creating a stormy lane in the confined space if it had been a pewter... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    something katy

  • drabble day 15 - about those goats you saw

    15 May 2012 | 9:14 pm
    there were three of them, right? and a baby goat. they call those kids. so you saw three goats and a kid? and the color of these goats and kid? brown and black, you say? alpine goats. yes, alpine. they're for milking. ah, yeah... i guess i do know a bit about goats. no, i didn't grow up on a farm. ***** yep, and a baby goat. yes. brown and black. alpine

  • drabble day 14 - the collector

    14 May 2012 | 8:47 am
    no one answers the door when a suit comes to it.  he knocks, he knows you're home, but you do not respond.  you hope he will turn around and leave.  you hope he realizes his mistake, that he has rung the doorbell of the wrong house.  but the collector is never wrong.  he never leaves without payment.  you sit there, still and silent, hoping.  but he will knock again.  he will ring again.

  • drabble day 13 - sunny

    13 May 2012 | 11:00 am
    everyone sat out on the back deck eating multi grain nachos and mild salsa.  everyone sat out wearing shorts and little t-shirts and cheap flip flops.  everyone watched as the two dogs chased each other in the back yard and fought over a chewed up frisbee.  everyone soaked in the sun light as it filtered down between puffy white clouds.  everyone shared their opinions on superhero movies in the

  • drabble day 12 - 12 days

    12 May 2012 | 11:30 am
    the morris family were on a two week vacation at yellow stone national park.  andre hated nature and he hated spending time with his family.  he was 15 and definitely old enough to be left alone at home while the family was away on vacations.  at least that's what he argued.  even if he had to stay in the house for all 12 days, anything was better than sitting in a compact rental car with his

  • drabble day 11 - voiceless

    11 May 2012 | 11:30 am
    sabina is the smallest and youngest of all eight princes and princesses. she is also the quietest. often at a party she is forgotten about when the time comes to leave. a driver will be called by the party host to come pick up the left-behind princess. although she is small and quiet, she is never sad. princess sabina lives in a world unlike ours, a world of fantasy and make believe
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Uncle David

  • 05-06-2012

    8 May 2012 | 7:36 am
    05-03-2012O understood idiociesinundater the confined scalerace the roit that transgressthe landscape of the facewalls of repetitions fallsand pee;ed language frommy tongue, a painted faceruns in the rail land thememories of likescars of reliefthat efface the burnishedraces of human dignityface of human transcriptionTo PoetsMesopotamianwhat makes you bewhat chieftain’ssplendor sat youin your gravealong side thesackcloth skeleton of your dogcompany into the unknownHuaca voiceswas killed bythe Conquistadorsfunctions in poetryseems to be no moreno more they pave the roadnow the yellow brickis…

  • Why Would I want to be a Hero?

    2 May 2012 | 8:56 pm
    05-02-2012Why Would I want to be a Hero?Artiest-hero as in the F-Wakeor young man as technique of quakethe portrait seenthe self-glory beamsthe Prometheus or the Caesarprofesses rebels whostab with a kissperturbed of intelligencepomposity of possibilitieswindmills of donkeysand honored dignitydelusions trills he whoburden his timewith doing rightas to kill ambitionssnicking about in the nightwho is this sociological manthis action in handthis embodiment ofegotist's importantthis hero romanticimpotent of getting alongwith rules that rulesthe common waythe rules that controlthe fools of our…

  • new poems

    1 May 2012 | 7:36 pm
    05-01-2012Unfamiliar and faces seenhiding faces from medrink slippin faceswhen I speakstiff faces of boysbitten by lust formoney not lovethat linger longervulgarisms of virusvice and the bids the bitVenus boys in new shoesand collection of friendshiplike souls and none newerthen the old oldgrown not founddiscriminating boys like bullsrejoice the receptacle of beautyas a rare ability of dutyto sex the skin same ascrowns given to the sameto be named king of the gamerivers of scars runs remarkablein the forbidden Erichthonius' waywe pray our paypaid to translatelost lust from loveforbidden…

  • 04-30-2012 10 poems

    1 May 2012 | 10:26 am
    04-30-2012Yazilikayathe intricate time diedand being done down deadthe Yucatandecorated their dragonsand what thin I hearAfrican heads and idealof stone pyramidshauled from afarand dark skin of black skillsthe oldest human kindtemporancous fromthe land of my fore fatherand I his sonHittite honor realas agreement it itnot be founding fathersin business suitsto the nativesoriginally talkingin revisionist tonguewe call itpointing storiesor American history-Dominant Godstop man and manbottom to the crossclosed restingsubject their eyesgiven spatial of variousinvolvements of voltageand water…

  • 3 poems

    23 Apr 2012 | 9:20 pm
    04-22-2012Yes Trayvon is goneour desires of thepromise land still strongbut it is still agated communitywith a sign on the locked gatethat reads no black allowedMarin and Malcolmmy main men of Ms mightof your strugglethe washer women of heavendo their slavish choresthe trumpet of gaberdine Gabrielstill blowing strongbut man is a deft creatureman is a sin committedwith sinful waysthat have no healing powerwherefore the baby cryieswherefore do justice liesin the common Christian grave-Childrenon the runfearing not the weatherbut the black rebelschildren rising childrenthrough sexor…
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Watermark

  • Friday Cat Blogging

    blogdiva@gmail.com (Sharon Brogan)
    11 May 2012 | 8:21 am
    [Click the image to see credits & larger sizes at flickr.]

  • When Lives Were Saved

    blogdiva@gmail.com (Sharon Brogan)
    10 May 2012 | 9:42 am
    Billy commented on this poem at Oratory, reminding me of one lost in the archives:  When you were parched      with the needs of others           and I washed up thirsting                on your rocky beach, you let me in.  When I raged      against all fathers, all lovers,           all men who cast away their                women, you stayed, still and deep as a mirror.  When      you went down as far as           you could dive, beyond                love, beyond breathing, submerged in death and bloated      with all…
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Wingtips

  • Waiting Room

    wings
    24 Apr 2012 | 12:54 pm
    Waiting RoomI imagine the sky when the world ignoresme trapped in a windowless room.I hear the wind crash against rough wallsand cicadas sing buried in my head 's heat.A painted sun drills an eye and driesa newborn tear while pieces of life diveinto the black waves of waiting.

  • 23 Apr 2012 | 9:45 am

    wings
    23 Apr 2012 | 9:45 am
    Insomnia Darkness is now veined with white and naked like the sand deserted by tides-- her hand, with moon-pointed nails, is not tired yet though digging my body through all night.

  • In the morning

    wings
    29 Jun 2011 | 12:06 pm
      Everything is transfigured -- words too,newborn, strive to nameour thoughts still blurred by sleep.

  • Awakening

    wings
    27 Jun 2011 | 12:05 pm
      The street is  dirty with early trafficwhen the wind dives through the skyand knocks on my windowwith magnolia blooms.

  • From: Farther than Far

    wings
    30 May 2011 | 1:36 am
    Yes, we've come out,but out of what if we don't recognize each other. I can't ask who you are, can't say who I am. Walking ahead, we lost our names.
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Wordplay Poetry Blog

  • BLUES ON THE RADIO poem by Tony Nesca

    site admin
    14 May 2012 | 4:26 pm
    BLUES ON THE RADIO laura, tears run silently down her cheeks coffee in front of her old blues song on the radio mom too tired and hungover laura wanting happiness wanting understanding mom too tired and wasted ain’t no purpose she says, there ain’t none mike at home lighting a rock tears on his cheek [...]

  • Old Radio Show from Artvilla

    David
    14 May 2012 | 2:18 pm
    Radio 10 This features some really good guitar by Andy Derryberry, readings of poetry with music. Poems by Wordplay’s Rebecca Buchanan, Ken Peters, and a reading by Janet Kuypers [...]

  • Beautiful Flower Poem

    site admin
    11 May 2012 | 10:10 am
    You cannot expect to find a beautiful flower poem here. I can write nothing as beautiful as a flower. If millions read my poem every day for a million years, its beauty can last no longer than a flower lives.     david michael jackson     May 11, 2012    dave@artvilla.com

  • Love is the spring that feeds the well

    site admin
    6 May 2012 | 8:28 pm
    Love is the spring that feeds the well, the well where we lower our bucket. We lower the bucket into our own well of hope for the ladies, for the children, for each other, for ourselves. We lower this bucket and we drink the water and the spring rushes from the earth and the well [...]

  • The One Good One Poem

    site admin
    4 May 2012 | 10:29 pm
    Completely he turned to the left, to the right. “Don’t stop moving the fingers”, he said, “The keys must click like horses hooves.” Turn at last toward the angry people you met and the one good one, with the smile today, when she didn’t have to, when it wasn’t necessary, when it counted. Thank you. [...]
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Silliman's Blog

  • 15 May 2012 | 11:01 pm

    15 May 2012 | 11:01 pm
    <!--[if gte mso 9]> 14.00 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]>

  • 14 May 2012 | 11:01 pm

    14 May 2012 | 11:01 pm
    <!--[if gte mso 9]> 14.00 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]>

  • 13 May 2012 | 11:01 pm

    13 May 2012 | 11:01 pm
    <!--[if gte mso 9]> 14.00 <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]>

  • 12 May 2012 | 11:01 pm

    12 May 2012 | 11:01 pm
    Chinua Achebe talking with K. Anthony Appiah @ the 92nd Street Y

  • 11 May 2012 | 11:01 pm

    11 May 2012 | 11:01 pm
    John Ashbery reading @ the 92nd Street Y in 1952
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Poet Hound

  • All Poetry

    14 May 2012 | 6:23 pm
    If you’d like to share your poetry in progress and receive feedback, this is the place for you! Check it out at:http://www.allpoetry.comThanks for clicking in!Now that my big exam is done I am hoping to get back to a regular schedule here at Poet Hound. I am taking a break the rest of this week to organize my house, a belated spring cleaning if you will. Please drop in next week as I will be more settled in and able to do regular posts again...

  • Barefoot Review Open Submissions

    10 May 2012 | 5:15 am
    Jamie Sue Austin was kind enough to let me know that the Barefoot Review is actively seeking submissions and that seek poetry that talks about disabilities and illness and how it affects everyone. You will need to use the link to read the guidelines as they are fairly specific. I am happy to see that there is a forum out there that allows those going through difficult times to express themselves whether they are a caretaker or the one going through an illness or living life with a disability. I urge you to check them out at:http://www.barefootreview.org/submit.htmlGood luck to all who submit…

  • This Week

    7 May 2012 | 5:19 am
    I have a post ready for Thursday, so please drop in for Open Submissions, I will return to a more regular schedule after I take my re-certification exam this Friday, thanks for your patience…

  • Poems Found by Poet Hound

    2 May 2012 | 5:11 am
    http://poetrysuperhighway.com/pshffa.htmlNot a poem but an awesome idea for sharing more poetry with the world…I have a major re-certification exam next Friday and have been studying more so there are no more posts for this week, please stay tuned for next week…

  • Indiana Crime Edited by Murphy Edwards and James Ward Kirk and Durable Goods Issue 61 Edited by Aleathia Drehmer

    1 May 2012 | 5:10 am
    Indiana Crime 2012 is an anthology of poems, flash fiction, short stories, and art focusing on the crimes and horror stories of the Midwest. Edited by Murphy Edwards and James Ward Kirk, there are gruesome tales as well as heartbreaking hard-luck tales within its pages. Below, I’ll share a couple of poems and a review of one of the stories:Murder in greasepaintBy: Brian RosenbergerA painted smilecan hide many thingssome longer than othersbut nothing foreverMatchless mirth makerand member of thefun bunchin good standingHarry the clownhad a hole in his heartas red as his noseMorganna,…
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    The Best American Poetry

  • QUESTIONNAIRE [by Anthony Madrid]

    Anthony Madrid
    16 May 2012 | 12:25 am
    1. Name some poets everybody in your milieu likes, except for you. 2. The opposite. Poets you like, but none of your friends do. Poets you are always having to defend. COMMENTARY ON 1 AND 2. These two questions are...

  • Forget John Cusack: YOU could be the voice of POE

    The Best American Poetry
    15 May 2012 | 4:48 pm
    The Voice of Poe Contest YOU could be a featured voice in the new Edgar Allan Poe Cottage (The Bronx, New York) bi-lingual audio tour! Create a video of your best interpretation of Poe's Annabel Lee, The Bells, or The...

  • Frankie died today -- in 1998 (by DL)

    The Best American Poetry
    15 May 2012 | 11:54 am
    Sinatra, snapping out of a haze, noticed me sitting across from him “Who the fuck are you?” Just another fan, I said, on the day he died I made anagrams out of his name satin, sin, stain, stair, train, rain,...

  • "Winnie the Pooh," [by Ian Brown]

    The Best American Poetry
    15 May 2012 | 8:29 am
    it was really a strange choice you made this morning to go with just a t-shirt and no pants. There are not many of us who can pull that kind of thing off. There are not many of us who...

  • INNUENDI :: 2 :: [by Anthony Madrid]

    Anthony Madrid
    14 May 2012 | 10:56 pm
    1. Take a look at these familiar lines from Yeats’s “Leda and the Swan”: A shudder in the loins engenders there The broken wall, the burning roof and tower And Agamemnon dead. Being so caught up, So mastered by the...
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Harriet: The Blog

  • The Poems and Voices of Mark Nowak’s Domestic Workers United Workshop

    Harriet Staff
    15 May 2012 | 4:00 pm
    PEN Live! has coverage from the PEN World Voices Festival 2012 panel “There’s so much to say…,” moderated by Mark Nowak. The panel “gave voice to and showcased the writings of participants who’d completed a poetry workshop with Nowak, meeting Saturday mornings at the Domestic Workers United office, in downtown Manhattan, over the course of five months.” Domestic Workers United is a guild of New York nannies, housekeepers, and caregivers, organizing for power, respect, and fair labor standards. The panelists–Arlene Charles, Yvonne Ennis, Allison Julien,…

  • “Bad is not the Devil”: Anthony Madrid at Best American Poetry

    Harriet Staff
    15 May 2012 | 2:00 pm
    We’re super into Anthony Madrid blogging over at Best American Poetry. He asks, today, after quoting a bit from “Leda and the Swan,” what it was that prompted Yeats toward the line of questioning expressed in the line “Did she put on his knowledge with his power”. Writes Madrid: “That question is strictly out of Yeats’s head. There is no warrant for it in the original myth, or anywhere. When you are being raped by a god, you do not ‘put on his knowledge.’ Anyway it never happens in Ovid.” He continues: My hypothesis has always been that,…

  • On Julian Brolaski’s Advice for Lovers

    Harriet Staff
    15 May 2012 | 12:00 pm
    Over at The Volta, last Friday’s Feature was a review of Julian Brolaski’s recent Advice for Lovers, which is the latest book to come out of Garrett Caples’s rather marvelous City Lights Spotlight series. Patrick James Dunagan was at the reading at City Lights Bookstore celebrating the publication, and noted that Brolaksi at first hesitated to read “the naughty ones”: Immediately, without intending to interrupt or otherwise disturb, but admittedly not giving it any thought, I piped up from the stairs, “Oh, but you should. Those ones are really wonderful and…

  • If you behave there will be cake for the miscreants we call your brothers

    Harriet Staff
    15 May 2012 | 12:00 pm
    A Surrealist generated compliment!

  • Richard Hugo at the Paris Review blog

    Harriet Staff
    15 May 2012 | 11:00 am
    At the Paris Review Daily, Alice Bolin has a fabulous profile of Richard Hugo and… graves. And it makes a lot of sense if you think about it. Bolin begins by describing Hugo’s remarkable ability to write about and memorialize landmarks in Montana: It is an indisputable fact that the memory of poet Richard Hugo haunts Missoula, Montana. This notion might first strike us as innocuous, obvious, falling within the simple domain of legacy. Thirty years after his death, he leaves equal endowments in Missoula, as the most important “Montana poet” and as a teacher of poetry: he was…
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    One Poet's Notes

  • Larry D. Thomas: "Signs"

    15 May 2012 | 10:18 am
    The VPR Poem of the Week is Larry D. Thomas’s "Signs," which appears in the Spring/Summer 2012 issue (Volume XIII, Number 2) of Valparaiso Poetry Review. Larry D. Thomas, a member of the Texas Institute of Letters, was the 2008 Texas Poet Laureate.  He has published eighteen collections of poems, most recently A Murder of Crows (Virtual Artists Collective, 2011).  His New and Selected Poems was long-listed for the National Book Award.  Tuesday of each week One Poet’s Notes highlights an excellent work by a poet selected from the issues of Valparaiso Poetry Review, except…

  • Photo Friday: "Brook After Spring Shower"

    11 May 2012 | 12:08 am
    I remind all interested that many of my photographs are available at a daily photo blog, which I began at the start of the year. I invite everyone to visit the blog and to click on the photographs to examine them in high resolution or to magnify them for a detailed look.

  • Thomas Reiter: “My Grandmother’s Journey, 1891”

    8 May 2012 | 12:04 am
    The VPR Poem of the Week is Thomas Reiter’s My Grandmother’s Journey, 1891,” which appeared in the Spring/Summer 2011 issue (Volume XII, Number 2) of Valparaiso Poetry Review. Thomas Reiters most recent book of poems, Catchment, was published in 2009 by LSU Press.  He has received an Academy of American Poets Prize as well as fellowships from the NEA and the New Jersey State Council on the Arts. Tuesday of each week One Poet’s Notes highlights an excellent work by a poet selected from the issues of Valparaiso Poetry Review, except when other posts with news or updates preempt the…

  • Photo Friday: "Nineteenth-Century Farmhouse"

    4 May 2012 | 8:06 am
    I remind all interested that many of my photographs are available at a daily photo blog, which I began at the start of the year. I invite everyone to visit the blog and to click on the photographs to examine them in high resolution or to magnify them for a detailed look.

  • Announcement: Publication of Summer 2012 Issue of VFR

    2 May 2012 | 9:44 am
    I am delighted to announce release of the Summer 2012 issue of Valparaiso Fiction Review,the national (international) literary journal published by the Department of English and Christopher Center for Library and Information at Valparaiso University. This issue of the journal contains compositions of short fiction by David Meischen, Megan M. Erwin, Susan Solomon, Marysa LaRowe, Corey Mertes, Amie Whittemore, and Joe Ponepinto. The cover image of the new issue also exhibits a photograph of mine that represents a farewell tribute to Huegli Hall, the building where I have had my office the past…
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Dunstan Carter : Poetry

  • The Battle Over The Remote Control

    dc
    15 May 2012 | 11:52 am
    Some people Will sit through anything, A documentary On falling cobwebs, A slideshow of Passing traffic, The hair on a fat man’s arms Blowing in the breeze, Ex-convicts wallpapering, A priest baking cakes, An estate agent sneering, Truck drivers discussing soup, The dumb pretence Of entertainment Smeared across Their eyes. Right now There’s a wolf boy Lost on the Mexican-US border, He sings poetry from a dying planet And sums up our fears With an high pitched ocarina And a dancing prairie dog, But it’s the same sorry tale, The viewing figures are low, The dumb Have won Again.

  • A Thought Sleeps

    dc
    13 May 2012 | 8:44 pm
    A thought sleeps In the corner of the room As we look on cooing, The wandering nothing That got brushed aside Has found itself a spot, And here we are, Clasping on something silent As the house slowly crumbles Around us.

  • In The House Of Newspapers

    dc
    9 May 2012 | 12:34 pm
    In the house of newspapers The sun curls its corners And the draughts tickle Yellow and jaded, Yesterday’s headlines And a tea stained blonde Smiling towards sadness And resting in time, The twist of sly hindsight, The hushed laughter of vengeance And the untouched windowsills Cracked in the heat. Where once strode the pageant Of black and white snapshots There now sits abandon, All wistful and saddened, A coffee mug rotting, A floor missing tiles, The jubilant once was Of now then goodbyes.

  • The Writing

    dc
    2 May 2012 | 6:11 pm
    They wrote The writing On their wall, It was never Written For them.

  • Wasp Nest

    dc
    30 Apr 2012 | 6:39 pm
    A wasp nest In a demolition derby Mustang engine, There’s nothing broken, Just an angry drone, And the Pepsi children, All twitchy and wild, Make the moment, Electrified Like fizzing TV’s. Maybe the wasps Will die in the smoke, Maybe there’s A death rattle Circling, A curse To go alongside The chronic pain And the ketchup Daydreams, The squealing tyres And the car park Doughnuts, The buzz Of dust And nerves.
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Robert Peake

  • Poetry Versus Angry Birds

    Robert Peake
    9 May 2012 | 4:50 am
    “I have become comfortably numb.” -Pink Floyd When I commute into the city centre, I often take a book of poems. I read them eagerly on the way in to work. But after a long day wrestling with technical, logistical, and managerial issues, on the return journey I will invariably whip out my phone and tap away mindlessly at video games. Certainly, energy is one factor in this pattern. Poetry demands attention (and good poetry rewards it in equal or greater measure); video games demand little but give back instantly in pleasurable (but short-lived) bursts. So, perhaps when I have less…

  • First Year in London: Lessons in Negative Capability

    Robert Peake
    29 Apr 2012 | 3:06 pm
    “Not wrong, just different.” -Valerie‘s mantra for overcoming culture shock Tuesday marks the one-year anniversary of my arrival in London. This afternoon I attended a reading at Keats House in Hampstead. Four volunteers read poems and excerpts from his letters dealing with the concept of Negative Capability. This ability to remain “in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason” is something I have cultivated in my writing process, and admired in the work of others. However, it occurs to me that living in London has…

  • Jane Hirshfield at the Southbank Centre

    Robert Peake
    25 Apr 2012 | 4:57 pm
    “A poem is a provisional darning across that [psychic] tear.” -Jane Hirshfield Behind Jane Hirshfield, drizzle smeared the windows framing London’s icons to make an impressionist painting. She read generously from new work and old standards, and even revealed some personal detail when asked about the significance of a particular poem in the Q&A. Though myself a former Berkeleyite, I had never heard her read in person. How marvelous to encounter her six thousand miles away. Though confident and grounded, she seemed to be appreciating the poetry alongside us, rather than…

  • Transatlantic Elegies: Dunn and Hall

    Robert Peake
    21 Apr 2012 | 4:54 pm
    Donald Hall’s keen observations on grief in Without had a profound impact on my understanding of the possibilities of elegiac poems. Since relocating to London, Douglass Dunn’s slim volume Elegies has deepened my understanding of the form, and some of its specific cultural implications. Both collections were written in the wake of the poet’s wife’s death from cancer. And each, in its way, is a remarkable achievement of transcending loss to make art. But here the similarities end, and certain differences–ones I find illustrative of the subtle divide in…

  • New Site Design

    Robert Peake
    10 Apr 2012 | 3:47 pm
    I spent some time at the weekend upgrading the look and feel of my website. My aim was twofold: First, a kind of spring cleaning, aimed at de-cluttering the site and focusing the experience primarily on the articles, rather than myriad sidebar links. I have come to realise it is not so much reading on screen, as reading on a screen full of other options, that I find distracting and therefore distressing. Hopefully, in this sense, the new site mimics the experience of a print publication just that much more. Second, I wanted to make my site more mobile-friendly. I extended the forthcoming and…
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    peony moon

  • John Clegg’s Antler

    Michelle
    13 May 2012 | 12:04 pm
    © Image by Alice Mullen     John Clegg grew up in Cambridge and studies at Durham University, where he is working towards a PhD on the Eastern European context of contemporary English poetry. Some of his poems feature in The Salt Book of Younger Poets and Best British Poetry 2012. His first collection, Antler, is published by Salt.              “The poems in Antler stalk their quarry over difficult ground. Prehistoric landscapes blend with genuine and imaginary anthropology; the real world becomes distorted through the dark mirrors of folktale and myth; fraudsters, liars, and…

  • Tim Dooley’s Imagined Rooms

    Michelle
    13 May 2012 | 7:00 am
           Tim Dooley was born in 1951 and grew up in the West Country. He read English at Oxford and has a research MA in Victorian Poetry from the Open University. He has taught English and Film Studies, in schools and in Further Education, in London and Hertfordshire since 1974. He is reviews and features editor of Poetry London and has worked as a creative writing tutor for Arvon, Writers’ Inc and The Poetry School. He has reviewed poetry for the TLS and co-edited the little magazine Green Lines. His first collection, The Interrupted Dream, was published by Anvil in 1985. This was…

  • Peter Daniels’s Counting Eggs

    Michelle
    7 May 2012 | 1:00 pm
    © Image by Julian Corkle     Peter Daniels published his first full collection Counting Eggs in April 2012 with Mulfran Press. His pamphlets include Mr Luczinski Makes a Move with HappenStance (2011) and three with Smith Doorstop, twice as a Poetry Business competition winner; he also won the Ledbury (2002), Arvon (2008) and TLS (2010) poetry competitions. His translations of Vladislav Khodasevich from Russian are due from Angel Books in 2013.                “His eye for the absurdity of every-day life is sharp but gentle, his tone light but authoritative. Daniels never…

  • Clare Best reviews Abegail Morley’s Snow Child

    Michelle
    6 May 2012 | 11:11 am
        Snow Child by Abegail Morley Pindrop Press 2011 ISBN 9780956782243 £8.99     Abegail Morley’s first collection How to Pour Madness into a Teacup, a winner of the Cinnamon Press Poetry Collection Competition and shortlisted for the Forward Best First Collection prize, was always going to be a hard act to follow. With the very smart Pindrop Press edition of Snow Child, Morley has gone for a swift second collection (published just two years after How to Pour Madness into a Teacup) which bears the same hallmark of emotional power. Snow Child again demonstrates that this poet is a force…

  • Samantha Wynne-Rhydderch on her new collection, Banjo

    Michelle
    2 May 2012 | 12:00 pm
          Banjo Samantha Wynne-Rhydderch Picador Poetry ISBN 9780330544665 Publication: June 2012 Launch: The Hay Festival at 16h00 on Tuesday, 5 June       “While Banjo (Picador, 2012) opens with a clutch of fine lyrics, elegies and set-pieces, at the heart of Samantha Wynne-Rhydderch’s new book is a remarkable tale of darkness and light, music and silence. Celebrating the centenary of Captain Scott’s arrival at the South Pole in 1912, Banjo gives us new psychological insight into the lives of the early Antarctic pioneers, as well as an extraordinary account of the role…
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    The Purple Walk

  • On One Knee

    6 May 2012 | 1:59 pm
    Falling drops a deeper down, leaving questions of who, how, why as the pulling up begins, by anything low enough and at last one hand outstretched. Upright, red-faced, stunned by debated sequence, then down-chinned from the swath of evidence, what remains but to acknowledge that this moment is among the final ones. Continue. If a hundred and then a thousand agreed to despise, concurred on the litany of sins, called out loud with the same slurs, shunned in tribal unison, a different truth exists outside of these piercing eyes and the whispering curl of thin lips. Up we go. Any attention…

  • Rain Returning

    31 Mar 2012 | 10:13 pm
    Up-raised, in the wind, a fist. On comes rain slapping and pushing between knuckles. Fist, strong, defiant, bending backward as wind leans in. And, in the wind, a palm, open, raised. Rain popping on pink skin, pushing fingers back, apart. The palm is a face, red from the steadfast slaps. Second hand, like the first, twists and bobs, braces in the cool and wet, calls forth an echo of centuries, of your life, of mine, of the vanishing and the return. Let these slights slap, god’s tears, the flood forward of everyone crying, everyone knowing what has begun and can’t be stopped. Retained,…

  • Chairs at Sundown

    28 Mar 2012 | 12:43 pm
    Blue chair in the corner. He sits. Within himself, he rises and sinks, signaling presence with a spark of recognition, revealing retreat when his eyes take on the darting agitation of a man falling below. *During the rise just a minute ago, he spoke to his wonder on the workings of weather, dry and wet on the same day in different places, oceans filled in their sandy beds but not spilling out, rocks and mountains remaining rooted. He describes systems as finds them, and in them finds surprise. Then he sinks again. *In bed now, on his side, chatting with others that I can’t see. Desk chair…

  • Water

    18 Dec 2011 | 11:02 am
    I am the knuckle curled beneath your hang-down chin, lifting against your ‘no’. I am the voice asking you to look up, look at me, look in my eyes. I have your secrets and I am keeping them, cradling them like helpless babies. You hold back, turn away. Refuse. If you could look at me to see what floats like a ghost in the space between your eyes and mine, and what waits just beyond that ghost? Truths may take a different shape, may not bite, and bring another chance. Who else wants you to listen and what are the offered words? An answer for now may be just this much:Have faith. Faith…

  • Connected

    1 Oct 2011 | 7:14 pm
    Souls that travel connected by events and causes that we don't see, but remain linked in the ways that waves of light link, that stay connected through all the roughing up of time, storms, surface events, deaths and births. We in this circle reprise our interplay in life after life, century after century, grieving in unison when even one among them departs to that next place, popping out like a new star when one is added among us. We do not speak of next, past, or parted there. We can't conceive of the existence of these states of mind.
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    The Nahmias Cipher Report

  • So You Love Me? Use The FDA HIV Test Kit

    Ayanna Nahmias
    15 May 2012 | 11:57 pm
    Ayanna Nahmias, Editor-in-Chief Last Modified: 00:57 AM EDT, 16 May 2012 WASHINGTON, DC – David Morgan of Reuters UK first broke the news that the United States Federal Drug Administration (FDA) is considering approval of an over-the-counter home HIV test kit. If approved, the test could further empower sexually active men and women, by arming [...]

  • Esperanza Spalding Feature in Newsweek

    Ayanna Nahmias
    11 May 2012 | 11:11 pm
    Reblogged from the jazzmonger: Esperanza Spalding! I have made my admiration for this beautiful, talented lady a recurrent theme here on thejazzmonger blog. Now, I am pleased to report that she is the subject of an excellent article in Newsweek and it’s affiliate The Daily Beast. Abigail Pesta’s piece begins, as most Spalding features do, with [...]

  • Bagmati River Slum Razed

    Ayanna Nahmias
    10 May 2012 | 5:19 pm
    Ayanna Nahmias, Editor-in-Chief Last Modified: 18:19 PM EDT, 10 May 2012 KATHMANDU, Nepal – Wednesday, 8 May 2012, was a day of great disruption and equal measure of sorrow for the residents of the shanty town at UN Park in the Thapathali area in Kathmandu. Most of the make-shift neighborhood encompassed an area 400-metre long, [...]

  • An American Tragedy, part two

    Ayanna Nahmias
    9 May 2012 | 2:42 pm
    Reblogged from myownstormypetrelwords: I’ve written about a few of these subjects before: the obscene incarceration rate in America http://www.myownstormypetrelwords.wordpress.com/2012/03/19/georgia-another-proud-moment/; Doug Blackmon’s ground-breaking book, Slavery by Another Name, in which he describes the forced labor system in place for more than a century after the end of the Civil War. http://www.myownstormypetrelwords.wordpress.com/2012/02/13/slavery-by-another-name/ But now, Michelle Alexander has [...]

  • Will Liberia Let Them Eat Dust?

    Ayanna Nahmias
    8 May 2012 | 1:16 pm
    Ayanna Nahmias, Editor-in-Chief Last Modified: 14:16 PM EDT, 8 May 2012 MONROVIA, Liberia – Across Africa water shortages and drought are an increasingly prevalent phenomenon. Some instances are a consequence of natural disaster, but in some cases clean water is being hoarded by powerful factions and used to extort impoverished people, or as a means [...]
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    The Chronicles of R

  • Collusion - Track Your Online Footprint with Firefox

    5 May 2012 | 10:49 pm
    Ever wanted to know who is tracking you online in real-time? Wanted to be able to choose who should be able to track your online footprints and who should not be able to stalk you? Mozilla and Ford Foundation has come up with a new add-on for their Firefox browser which would do just the same - Collusion. Collusion is an experimental add-on for Firefox and allows you to see all the third

  • Tips on Improving Computer Performance

    2 May 2012 | 4:10 pm
    After a certain amount of time, your computer may start to lag and not perform as it once did. When this happens to your computer, you don't simply have to accept the fact that your computer is slowing down. You also don't have to go out and buy a new computer to get the performance back. Instead, there are a number of tips that you can use to improve the performance of your computer. You may

  • The Avengers (2012)

    2 May 2012 | 12:40 am
    I was so waiting for this moment that I thought I would die before it came. I was waiting for the Avengers to assemble! So all of you who were wondering about the existence of Nick Fury in all those Avenger movies like Iron Man, The Hulk, Thor et al, Director Joss Whedon has come to your rescue and repay you for waiting so patiently for the answer. He gave you The Avengers! So Nick Fury from

  • Watch Netflix and Hulu from Outside US

    19 Apr 2012 | 9:58 pm
    For all those who wanted to watch Netflix or Hulu but didn't get a chance because they don't live in the United States of A, or probably you lived in the United States of A and so didn't get to watch BBC iPlayer or 4OD, here's a simple and affordable solution. Get UnoTelly! UnoTelly DirectDNS is a DNS-based system that utilizes the properitory DirectDNS technology to give you access to blocked

  • Legal DVDs vs Pirated DVDs

    13 Apr 2012 | 2:12 am
    I guess this picture says it all. So if you are planning to buy pirated DVDs, be prepared to start watching the movie from the word go. No time to get the bucket of pop-corn. Too bad huh! And you should always avoid sites like Pirate Bay and Torrent Freak else you might end up spending thousands in downloading free illegal movies and music et al from these sites. It would also start crowding
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Best Poems - The Famous Poems Encyclopedia

  • Mother in distress

    Jalel Ben Ghozzia
    15 May 2012 | 4:41 pm
    A mother in distress try to see Full for affection and attachement garantee Through her child expression knows when ill Emergency to fight disease is feel read more

  • Mixture of feelings

    Jalel Ben Ghozzia
    14 May 2012 | 5:43 pm
    I like scence to know more Contribute with my dream what this world mean. I love poetry to express many Feelings and songs extreme Mixture of old and new scene. Dr Jalel Ben Ghozzia. read more

  • DREAMS

    Walter William Safar
    11 May 2012 | 11:07 am
    While the crystal clear rain is pouring, I am sitting on an old park bench, Careless about the purity Given to me by the skies. Next to me, an empty bottle And a straying homeless man read more

  • AN ODE TO INSPIRATION

    Walter William Safar
    11 May 2012 | 11:05 am
    Up above, Tchaikovsky's fluting notes are dancing, And the empty paper waits for the first verse to be born. While the screaming wind beats against the old window, read more

  • OLD BAR

    Walter William Safar
    11 May 2012 | 11:03 am
    You always have to hold on to someone When you're doing bad in life, And right now I am holding on to the counter in the bar. My fingers are sticking to the bottle read more
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Mark McGuinness | poetry

  • Farewell to Magma

    Mark McGuinness
    23 Apr 2012 | 4:31 am
    After eight very enjoyable years as a member of the editorial board of Magma Poetry magazine, I’ve recently handed in my resignation. I’ve had a wonderful time – among other things I edited Magma 34 and recorded an audio edition of the issue at the Poetry Library, attended lots of Magma readings at the Troubadour hosted by Coffee House Poetry, spoke at Aldeburgh Festival, and helped to develop Magma’s website and online marketing. Best of all has been the experience of working with so many talented and enthusiastic people, who give an enormous amount of time and energy…

  • Nancy Gaffield, ‘Nihonbashi’

    Mark McGuinness
    16 Oct 2011 | 5:14 am
    Inside, the edo-jin stir ashes to a dogged glow. A pair of curs sniff the bridgehead and the rat that passed there, now wallowing unreachable in river silt. They turn their backsides to our Hiro as he slips out of sight. The old town droops into silence and the rains begin. (Full poem online at The Bow-Wow Shop.) I read this several times before I noticed the pun on ‘our Hiro’.

  • Nancy Gaffield, Tokaido Road

    Mark McGuinness
    13 Oct 2011 | 5:08 pm
    I’ve just finished Nancy Gaffield’s superb Tokaido Road – 55 poems based on Hiroshige’s series of woodblock prints Fifty-three Stages of the Tokaido. I read it first without looking at the prints, to see how the poems work on their own (very well). Now I’m going to read it again, looking at the pictures. For ease of reference I’m linking to each of the 55 prints on Hiroshige.org.uk using the print/poem titles. Feel free to bookmark this page and use it for the same purpose. Nihonbashi Shinagawa Kawasaki Kanagawa Hodogaya Totsuka Fujisawa Hiratsuka Oiso…

  • Private Poetry

    Mark McGuinness
    6 Oct 2011 | 6:10 am
    Outside the Brisbane Powerhouse, apparently.

  • Louis MacNeice, ‘Passage Steamer’

    Mark McGuinness
    30 Jul 2011 | 5:53 am
    One of my favourite bits of MacNeice: Upon the decks they take beef tea, Who are so free, so free, so free, But down the ladder in the engine-room (Doom, doom, doom, doom.) The great cranks rise and fall, repeat, The great cranks plod with their Assyrian feet To match the monotonous energy of the sea. It starts off all fun and frolics, with the jazz band going and the cocktails coming. The rhythm and syncopation are infectiously camp. It’s all brushes and cymbals from the drummer, with the trumpeter warbling away at a solo and flapper girls strutting their stuff. (Yes, I know flappers…
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Poet Mom

  • Confession Tuesday

    January
    15 May 2012 | 8:33 am
    Happy Tuesday, folks. Time to share your confessions. Tell us a little about yourself and we promise to do the same. Here's a pic from Mothers' Day at Fenway park. Alex and Ella are standing next to Pesky's Pole, and next to the Red Sox's latest draft pick. Had to talk Ella out of touching his moustache.****I heard a new term that I think applies to me: "Momarazzi." I take so many pictures of my children it must seem like I am stalking them. Perhaps that's true. One day they'll be glad I documented all of these goofy moments. Can't wait to bring out some of…

  • The First and Last Word Poetry Series

    January
    14 May 2012 | 11:31 am
    Hope you can make it for this reading tomorrow night!****Tuesday, May 157 p.m.THE CENTER FOR THE ARTS AT THE ARMORYPOETRY AT THE CAFÉ 191 Highland Avenue, Somerville, MAAdmission $4READING AND OPEN MIC: Bass Guitarist: Ethan Mackler (accompaniment optional on open mic); Hosted by Harris Gardner and Gloria MindockTHE FIRST AND LAST WORD POETRY SERIES featuring: Lawrence Kessenich, January O'Neil, and Afaa Michael WeaverLawrence Kessenich won the 2010 Strokestown International Poetry Prize. He has been published in Atlanta Review, Poetry Ireland Review, and many other magazines. His…

  • Happy Mothers' Day!

    January
    13 May 2012 | 7:09 am
    Happy Mothers' Day to all the moms out there! Special shout out to the single moms getting it done 365 days a year. ****Right now, my kids are downstairs making breakfast for me. They've been upstairs a few times asking questions. Should I be nervous? ****Today we going to Fenway Park to watch the Red Sox play the Cleveland Indians. It will be the kids' first visit to Fenway Park. My son, who can spit out stats like an ESPN analyst, is particularly excited about going to his first Red Sox game. ****Love to my mom, mother-in-law, and my two aunts. I am also thinking of my…

  • Kevin Carey: "Crazy Stuff"

    January
    11 May 2012 | 7:20 am
    Last night I had the great pleasure of emcee-ing the launch party of Kevin Carey's new book, The One Fifteen to Penn Station (CavanKerry Press). He and I have the same publisher, which makes this all the more sweeter. Held at the Beverly Public Library, this was also where I had my book launch, so it was nice to be there for Kevin on his big night. And he did a terrific job.Watch this short clip of Kevin reading his poem "Crazy Stuff."Congrats, Kevin!

  • #Poetparty Answers

    January
    10 May 2012 | 8:34 am
    Last Sunday night I participated in a #poetparty on Twitter moderated by fab poets Collin Kelley and Deborah Ager at 32 Poems. The questions came so fast and furious I didn't have a chance to give detailed answers. So here are a few questions I wanted to address.1. Torie Michelle‏@torie_iB4eDid you shoot for publishing a certain number of poems in lit journals before sending out your first collection?  The short answer: no, I didn’t.  In reality, I didn’t have a plan about sending to journals before the publication of Underlife. And that’s fine for…
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Daily Poem With Gods Help

  • Orange True

    Kenney
    16 May 2012 | 5:31 am
    Orange true… ———— Orange true There’s no word that rhymes with orange, That was what I knew, Then I found out about sporange, Search it on google it’s true, Funny are the things I have set in stone, And saved in my brain as facts, Now as close as my smartphone, New ideas I can attract ————–

  • Tempted Initiate

    Kenney
    15 May 2012 | 5:53 am
    Tempted initiate… —————-  Tempted initiate Lord help me when I’m tempted, To not make the big mistake, Let me be exempted, When I tried to initiate, Power greater than Yours does not exist, I must constantly remind myself, But You give me the power to resist, And put temptations on the shelf ————

  • Trust Ambient

    Kenney
    13 May 2012 | 5:39 am
    Trust ambient… ————— Trust ambient Ambient light is peaceful, But not as beautiful as Yours, Your light God is wonderful, And the trust it gives assures ————-

  • Temper Future

    Kenney
    12 May 2012 | 5:38 am
    Temper future… ————–  Temper future Lord help me not live in the future, Where I am liable to lose my temper, Teach me your ways and teach me how, To live out my days staying only in the now ————–

  • Senile Freely

    Kenney
    11 May 2012 | 5:59 am
    Senile freely… ————- Senile freely Help me give to you freely, In all of my ways, And sing praise to you gladly, For all of my days, Let me give to you now, Before I am senile, Like a pig in her slop, Your love makes me smile ————–
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    image-verse.com

  • Heart’s Feast

    Rob Kistner
    13 May 2012 | 3:04 pm
    Heart’s Feast I am in love with falling in love it is the most fragile most fleeting human experience reciprocated it is sublime beyond measure or words when it ends we fall in love with the memory of falling and the heart loves on longingly achingly gloriously rob kistner © 2012 • this piece loosely inspired by this visual prompt at Magpie Tales

  • Well Traveled

    Rob Kistner
    9 May 2012 | 11:23 am
    …while it is true that, in the end, it is the journey that validates the destination — we do arrive at a point in life, where keeping one’s eye looking down the road, while seeing all we pass along the way, is what keeps the journey alive and meaningful…   Well Traveled from here the road ahead is traveled differently a shorter stride a stiffened gait a lessened pace guarantees it so but being long a traveler provides insight to match the bruise and scars of years and miles and the will to move can best the journey where wisdom is employed questions arise what…

  • Rivers of Tears

    Rob Kistner
    6 May 2012 | 2:42 pm
      Rivers of Tears once lithe and vital nature’s great rivers lie choked and bloated buried misshapen in watery graves of reckless progress headstone’d by constructs of human folly their bones stained with the ghosts of salmon borne away on the tears of the ancients rob kistner © 2012 • sparked by a visual promt at Magpie Tales, and inspired by the ecological damage being done by the ill-conceived hydro-electric dams now choking many of the Pacific Northwest’s, and the earth’s mighty rivers, and the pollution we dump so recklessly into our critical and dwindling fresh…

  • Spring’s Interlude

    Rob Kistner
    3 May 2012 | 5:45 pm
    …a Clarian Sonnet…   Spring’s Interlude may winds whisper, soon summer’s arrival in time to insure humor’s survival winter’s rains held firm and quite long this year but stubborn skies at last begin to clear the seasons bow for this brief interlude as if to hail my brightened attitude seeds push eager sprouts through warm fertile earth as nature cycles to this time of birth buds pop boldly forth through ripe ready limb new waters push fresh streams beyond their brim bird songs sparkle crisp through tall greening trees fragrance of new bloom wafts soft stirring…

  • Surfacing

    Rob Kistner
    29 Apr 2012 | 3:00 pm
    …poem for day 29 of National Poetry Month 2012…   Surfacing half full your words resonate and ring reverberant in my melancholy half empty has always been my perspective finding safety in my hollow solitude seeing the world refracted through my sorrow a shattered heart can no longer break there is nothing to lose for one who is without but were your love to flood my isolation to drown me in passion I would gladly risk it all again to swim up to the light to the warmth break the surface buoyant with bliss wet with desire to reach in the throes of ecstasy to encircle your…
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Priyanka's Neverland

  • Silence

    Priyanka's Neverland
    15 May 2012 | 2:24 pm
    Silence Is my best friend It envelopes me Into my emptiness. Hush, don't talk Me and silence are having a word Talk and you talk more With silence around, No one to fight; no shouts. When angry or sad Make silence your only friend The best listener you'll ever get Silence, Is my best friend. Silence is my best friendand it has wings to flyand it perches up highin the crimson sky,looking downAnd it is Time to say GoodbyeIt comes downsitting on my shoulderask me Why!Why do you cry,for those who are gonenever came to stayThen why mourn?Enjoy their stay, lessen the pain.These are moments where…

  • Questions of Gender Equilibrium

    Priyanka's Neverland
    12 May 2012 | 10:02 am
    I am not an author. I write. I opinionate. Some people think that being a blogger does not mean you are a writer. Definitions confuse me, for I as a human am not bound to learn them, or believe them if I don't wish to believe them. While I cannot stand it when a man harasses a woman in any form of the word, I cannot stand it either when a girl uses it to harass a man. In this so-called "enlightened" world where we study Gender as a tool of analysis, what we forget it what the term "Gender" constitutes. For those who don't know, it means, according to Wikipedia, Gender studies is…

  • Happy Birthday, Tagore!

    Priyanka's Neverland
    8 May 2012 | 1:56 pm
    Today I celebrate the birthday of a man  who had the talent, passion intellect and heart to live life in the best manner possible. He sung, he wrote, he drew and he spoke. People remember him for his love for nature, for expression and for his love for this nation. I being a Bengali, take extreme pride in coming from the same land he was born in. This is my tribute to you, Sir. You are an immortal being. If I were a true atheist, you would be my God. You would. Happy Birthday Gurudeb. Life had dragged me along the pavements with stones and thorns With little steps I carried on, I carried…

  • Finding Peace

    Priyanka's Neverland
    20 Apr 2012 | 3:38 pm
    It was never going to be an ordinary day. No day after this would be an ordinary one. Rakhi lay on the bare floor, her wrist letting all the pain away, with the blood. She made no noise, her parents were close by in the other room, talking. The rain was pouring, with sways of light breeze flocking her curls slightly, a silent spectator of all that she had experienced. Soon the blood would stop flowing. So would the breeze. She could hear her mother whimpering as her father growled in anger. "Why did we allow her to go to college? It is all because of your callousness, Radha! Why else would…

  • That Girl

    Priyanka's Neverland
    19 Apr 2012 | 3:23 pm
    I met a girl, she was tucking her hair  into the hood of the jacket she wore, It was summer, and I thought she was mad Still, I stood by and watched instead. After a while I asked,Ay! It ain't winter yet,She looked at me, and turned back to her work"Go on, after you've enjoyed my madness"She said. You shouldn't be this rude, you knowI wanted to help, after that I can always go, I said. And then shall return winter, hounding upon me this warmth shall be missed, the windows closed yet open The sill would break, the winds would blow the curtains away My home would drown into mud and clay.
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    A Noiseless Patient Spider

  • Simply

    Arian Tejano
    6 May 2012 | 9:33 am
    If you can find a river, remember where its water comes from and leads to. By this time tomorrow, there will be no more questions of sadness. -Arian Rey Tejano © 2012 A Noiseless Patient Spider. All rights reserved

  • Tandag

    Arian Tejano
    11 Apr 2012 | 9:03 am
    "Here it begins. You see mountains standing aback, so monumental, admiring. Advancing through the front window of the bus, bungalows pass by in close-ups. All have loosened to one side, but still denying to see their time. Just like these frontyard gardens. that forget the importance of fences. They let durantas steal space and swell up in yellow dazzle. Here are the proud streets. The

  • Double Dreamer

    Arian Tejano
    25 Mar 2012 | 8:04 am
    I would have liked to stay in my hometown, watch my mother winnow chaffs of rice on her nigo while my father's splicing up sacks of hay for the pen. But it changed when I reached this city. Through the window, the neon lights greeted me. They urged, and urged more each night, like gods with their quaint brightness. It was the years in the university, of summer travels, of strangers and

  • Harrowing

    Arian Tejano
    15 Mar 2012 | 6:48 am
    "To nail the tines into the ground, deeper and rootward, you have to tread on, weighty as the implement, keep the feet from rocking motion and, more kindly than excessively, lash the carabao-- making, at the same time, a repeatable pattern. The result: you should see sedges and touch-me-nots and hard weeds being drawn under and out, whirling to infrangible whorls. The field then shall be

  • Writer's Block

    Arian Tejano
    11 Mar 2012 | 9:26 am
    In this silenced room I sit like a Chinese poet observe a poem so tiny yet shifty in the airy mind. I am certain that this may be the one to give voice to my previous failures. Here the day is moving slow, I guess only magic can touch the clock hand out of its coma. Not too far, the window is inviting. And I, like a child seeking magic, move near in case a casual guest will soon arrive. A
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Yaadein

  • Madhushala - Harivansh Rai Bachchan (Part 5)

    Yashwant
    10 May 2012 | 11:00 pm
    Madhushala - Harivansh Rai Bachchan वादक बन मधु का विक्रेता  लाया सुर-सुमधुर-हाला, रागिनियाँ बन साकी आई  भरकर तारों का प्याला, विक्रेता के संकेतों पर  दौड़ लयों, आलापों में, पान कराती श्रोतागण को,  झंकृत वीणा मधुशाला।।४१। चित्रकार बन साकी आता  लेकर तूली…

  • Sahir Ludhianvi - Ahal-e-dil aur bhi hain, Ahal-e-wafa aur bhi hain

    Yaadein Missing You
    9 May 2012 | 10:17 am
    Sahir Ludhianvi अहल-ए-दिल और भी हैं  अहल-ए-वफ़ा और भी हैं  एक हम ही नहीं दुनिया  से खफा और भी है  क्या हुआ गर मेरे  यारों की ज़ुबानें चुप है  मेरे शाहिद मेरे यारों के  सिवा और भी हैं  हम पे ही खत्म नहीं  मसलक-ए-शोरीदा सारी  चाक-ए-दिल और भी हैं …

  • Madhushala - Harivansh Rai Bachchan (Part 4)

    Yashwant
    3 May 2012 | 11:00 pm
    Madhushala - Harivansh Rai Bachchan तारक मणियों से सज्जित  नभ बन जाए मधु का प्याला, सीधा करके भर दी जाए  उसमें सागरजल हाला, मज्ञल्तऌा समीरण साकी बनकर  अधरों पर छलका जाए, फैले हों जो सागर तट से  विश्व बने यह मधुशाला।।३१। अधरों पर हो कोई भी रस  जिहवा पर लगती…

  • Basheer Badr - bahar na aao ghar me raho tum nashe me ho

    Yaadein Missing You
    1 May 2012 | 11:00 pm
    बाहर ना आओ घर में रहो  तुम नशे में हो  सो जाओ दिन को रात करो  तुम नशे में हो  दरिया से इख्तेलाफ़ का  अंजाम सोच लो  लहरों के साथ साथ बहो  तुम नशे में हो  बेहद शरीफ लोगो से  कुछ फासला रखो  पी लो मगर कभी ना कहो  तुम नशे में हो कागज का ये लिबास …

  • Madhushala - Harivansh Rai Bachchan (Part 3)

    Yashwant
    30 Apr 2012 | 3:53 am
    Madhushala - Harivansh Rai Bachchan बड़े बड़े पिरवार मिटें यों,  एक न हो रोनेवाला, हो जाएँ सुनसान महल वे,  जहाँ थिरकतीं सुरबाला, राज्य उलट जाएँ, भूपों की  भाग्य सुलक्ष्मी सो जाए, जमे रहेंगे पीनेवाले,  जगा करेगी मधुशाला।।२१। सब मिट जाएँ, बना रहेगा  सुन्दर…
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    Shadow Dancing with Mind

  • WHISPERS: How To Save A Drop Of Love ... and Haiku

    Shashi S
    15 May 2012 | 3:08 pm
    Sharing some of my Haiku and thoughts & feelings of right now… Hope you like it.River flows, Sun melts over the rockShe brings into my arms– Earth and distant star___Dreams, dream dreamsDying on and on...– Into living____Cut into pieces – thrown apartBy time and spaceThere are many things wrong with me, right now___How to save a drop of love from drying up....___________As time takes its tollAs life takes its topsy-turvy turnsLike a riverSpiraling togetherness away from our lives- Away from the static banks of pastThe present flows into the unknown futureInto the Ocean of all -…

  • WHISPERS: Dante's Love Story and The Red Sand...

    Shashi S
    9 May 2012 | 11:01 am
    Remembering DanteAlighieri on his birthday today by sharing a very beautiful love poetry from La Vita Nuova ("The New Life") and a little bit about his amazing one sided love story.(The exact date is not known, but assumed by some online records that I came across, to be 9th May, c1265–1321)Though Dante is best known for the monumental epic poem La divina commedia (Divine Comedy), considered the greatest literary work composed in the Italian language and a masterpiece of world literature. But here I am sharing ‘Tanto gentile e tanto onesta pare’ from La Vita Nuova the story of his…

  • TALKING POINT: Is Human Nature Basically Selfish?

    Shashi S
    6 May 2012 | 8:55 am
    The first time I read Sigmund Freud, almost two decades back, I was not able to relate to it. The repeat reading of the same ideas and ideologies through Brenner, in such a beautiful and simple way which basically sank deeper in my psyche, got me closer to the thoughts and ideas Sigmund Freud promulgated. And it created within me a view that Human beings are basically made up of two basic drives i. e. the SEXUAL and the AGRESSIVE.(Freud 1920).  So yet again, thoughts of Sigmund Freud, some of them given below, I was not able to relate to, or digest…

  • UP, Close & Personal : Sigmund Freud

    Shashi S
    6 May 2012 | 8:48 am
    Remembering Sigmund Freud on his birthday today...Sigmund FreudSigmund Freud (6 May 1856 – 23 September 1939), was an Austrian neurologist who founded the discipline of psychoanalysis. Freud went on to develop theories about the unconscious mind and the mechanism of repression, and established the field of verbal psychotherapy by creating psychoanalysis, a clinical method for treating psychopathology through dialogue between a patient (or "analysand") and a psychoanalyst. Though psychoanalysis has declined as a therapeutic…

  • BOOK REVIEW: The Forest of Stories - Part 1 of The Mahabharata

    Shashi S
    21 Mar 2012 | 4:19 pm
    (Selected by Blog Adda to Review this book)It’s interesting to read what the author Ashok K Banker, whose earlier Ramayana Series catapulted him to one of the top Indian Authors, says in his introduction about the book, and I quote…“Turn the page. Start the journey.  Discover the impossible. Remember the forgotten. And I guarantee that within few pages, you will forget all about me. And you will see only the story itself. Because, bloody hell bugger, its mother of a story.” Curtsy Flipkart “Human beings must have an epic, a sublime account of how the world was created and…
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    tweetspeakpoetry.com

  • Daily Dose: Rosetta

    tspoetry
    15 May 2012 | 12:54 pm
    Okay, so some people learn a foreign language better in the bath. Or after it. What can we say? :) ______ Drawing on Skitch, accessed through Evernote, by Lyla Lindquist. Half the inspiration by Princess L.L. ___________ Buy a year of Every Day Poems, just $2.99— Read a poem a day, become a better poet. In May we’re exploring the theme Roses.

  • “You and Three Others Are Approaching a Lake”

    Glynn Young
    15 May 2012 | 4:00 am
    The James Laughlin Award is given by the Academy of American Poets to recognize and support a rather unusual (and unique) achievement — a poet’s second book of poetry. For 2011, the Laughlin Award was given to Anna Moschovakis for You and Three Others Are Approaching a Lake. I’ve never read a book of poetry quite like it. The title suggests a story or a riddle, implying that something is going to happen or unfold, or a challenge or competition is going to begin. Or perhaps a choice is going to be offered. All of these things, or something like them, does indeed happen, as Moschovakis…

  • May Play: Spontaneity

    Matthew Kreider
    14 May 2012 | 8:05 am
    The elementary school and playground which captivated my attention as a child was torn down many years ago. A bench surrounded by flowers is all that remains. That and a thousand memories … I kissed Amy Mayberry on the monkey bars. I pulled out a G.I. Joe action figure from my jeans pocket to fight battles with Jeff Vrabel among the exposed curling roots of an old tree. On the merry-go-round, I practiced my spelling words with Chuck Kirkpatrick. Poetry brings us back to the big slide again so we can play in a green field of memory. Tweetspeak Poetry’s May Play We’ve decided…

  • Journey into Poetry: Megan Willome

    Megan Willome
    14 May 2012 | 7:00 am
    I could start this post talking about Mrs. Sullivan, who helped our fifth-grade class publish a book of poems called “Pegasus.” I could also talk about Mrs. Gorychka, who had us write a lot of poetry in her creative writing class that I took in 10th grade. But my journey into poetry kicked into high gear when my mom’s cancer returned in 2007. She was supposed to have died sometime between fifth and 10th grade, but she hung on. This time she wasn’t going to pull through. So I turned to poetry. Only poetry seemed strong enough, yet it was short enough to keep me from getting bogged…

  • Image-ine: Child Poet

    Maureen Doallas
    11 May 2012 | 7:00 am
    She Grew Up to Be a Poet More angel than Medusa,       no temple serpents licking clean her ears of dark words’       fates, no ill- or fork-tongued Cassandra she, the child hears       her future sure: swirls of stuttered combinations of letters unstrung,       her own sweet-voiced Calliope cajoling the spells of imagination’s       epic rides through landscapes hued in green, metered in dotted staccato riffs.       Her paper tablet harnessed loose, she plucks her language branch  …
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    cottonbombs

  • The War of Peace

    cottonbombs
    15 May 2012 | 12:58 am
    The year is 2121. The leaders of the world’s two superpowers, the Prime Minister of Indonesia and the Fastest Monk of Bhutan, are scheduled to sit down and hash out an agreement on peace. “Good to see you again,” said Madame Prime Minister, offering the Fastest Monk a fruit basket. “We’ve never met.” “Oh, well, if we should meet again, it will be good to see you again.” “I don’t understand your English. Do you think we could switch to Bhutanese or even Chinese. I’m much more fluent in those.” “I don’t speak…

  • The Aftermath of Expanding Infinity

    cottonbombs
    14 May 2012 | 12:49 am
    The content you are about to read may not take you anywhere so why do you venture further like a blind Magellan without a hope that these words and world are round like traveling to Thailand from Toronto via Alaska won’t get there faster but you get there cheaper and isn’t that what fast food travel has become Columbus, Magellan, Gagarin, Armstrong none had the luxury to choose the cheapest ticket and look at them now they all shine as brightly as the stars they chased to find themselves discovering shores the ocean had been hinting at since we walked out of it the science of…

  • I Wonder Why I Wonder Why

    cottonbombs
    12 May 2012 | 9:57 pm
    I wonder why I wonder why now I’m chasing my tail no idea what I’ll do if I grab it like my grandma told me if you can pour salt on a rabbit’s tail you can catch it now I’m running with salt but those rabbits run fast faster than the thoughts that get caught that get salted on the screen even if they’re not thoughts at all but sounds strung together never seen like doe ray me I’m singing in silence until you read me now we’re dancing alone thank you for this chance to dance. Still I wonder why I wonder why a question that seemed so wry at the start of…

  • Literal Poetry

    cottonbombs
    11 May 2012 | 3:26 am
    To see better in low light it’s better to turn your eyes and look sideways this is the truth of poetry if I write you are beautiful you’ve probably heard it before if I write you shine like the stars you pull back cause you know cliche when it pokes you in the eye but if I write your light enters mine as chaos plays peek-a-boo in the cosmos you wrinkle your brow and wonder what it meant to me before knowing what it means to you the transfer of the color of red wine onto a sheet of white paper is both Brahma and Shiva north and south east and west I know why you are confused still…

  • Indulging in Moderation

    cottonbombs
    10 May 2012 | 2:13 am
    We are insatiably insatiable for it is the stomach that keeps us from confusing ourselves as God as we need to watch our salt intake cause we are what we eat and soon we’ll have swallowed enough salt to choke an ocean like we take each other with a grain of salt salting the truth we so often choose our disease if alcoholism is a disease let me call in drunk to work and see how much sympathy that wins me there are no Get Sober Soon cards. Everything in moderation even moderation.
 
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    My Thoughts, Verse, Music & Words

  • War or Peace - It's ours to choose.

    waqas.rabbani
    11 May 2012 | 11:41 pm
    I remember when things used to be so simple back in the past, I remember my childhood being so simple, and bright and carefree, I don’t know when we crossed that epoch into this new era of blood and violence, it seems so weird and painful sometimes. I have stopped watching the news altogether, I believe that too much heartache makes one heartless, and I really don’t want to desensitize myself more than I have already become, every time it seems that I turn around there’s another bomb blast, another mass killing, another crime against humanity, and it’s not just that it happens in my…

  • Top 10 Accidental Inventions

    waqas.rabbani
    11 May 2012 | 1:23 am
    Disclaimer - Article has been sourced from Science Discovery Louis Pasteur once said, "chance favors the prepared mind." That's the genius behind all these accidental inventions - the scientists were prepared. They did their science on the brink and were able to see the magic in a mistake, set-back, or coincidence. No. 10 - Saccharin Saccharin, the sweetener in the pink packet, was discovered because chemist Constantin Fahlberg didn't wash his hands after a day at the office. Prepare to get icked. The year was 1879 and Fahlberg was trying to come up with new and interesting uses for coal tar.

  • How to become a Youtube Vocal Artist

    waqas.rabbani
    12 Apr 2012 | 12:49 am
    This article is gonna be a really valuable kit of information if you are an aspiring solo Vocal artist, there is a lot of money in the music biz, and if you have the guts, and the talent, it's a sure thing that you'll make it big. the only down side is it takes a lot of money to actually record songs, and that's the problem, not all of us have the money these days to record our songs in fancy recording studios, and it takes even more to make videos independently, and there's only a one in a million chance that an indie recording goes viral, ( Que Kolaveri Di ). if you are low on budget, and…

  • Top 10 Reasons I Never Visit Your Blog Anymore

    waqas.rabbani
    11 Apr 2012 | 11:29 pm
    I recently checked the bounce rate on my blog and it up to 80%, i couldnt understand it, i took a moment to reorganize my thoughts and started an immediate quest to learn why people stop visiting , or drop off after reading a few pages, i came across this article Top 10 Reasons I Never Visit Your Blog Anymore and it really made sense. i'm going to take a step back and look at all the work i have done so far and make the changes that i have been planning to make for quite some time, i have been thinking on how to create a how to section for the blog , now's a better time than any to…

  • Fun - We Are Young (Feat. Janelle Monae) lyrics

    waqas.rabbani
    10 Apr 2012 | 11:19 pm
    "We Are Young" is a song by American indie pop band fun., featuring American singer Janelle Monáe. The song was released on September 20, 2011, as the first single from Fun's second studio album Some Nights. The song was the first to be written for the band's second album and was the first to be recorded, setting a template for the rest of the sessions that created the record. "We Are Young" was described by Billboard magazine as a "grandiose alternative number, built on theatrical orchestration and a propulsive, immediate chorus that beams with inspirational effect. An indie pop and…
  • add this feed to my.Alltop

    The Other Way

  • The Choice

    Tsundere Girl
    10 May 2012 | 9:36 am
    In this moment,stagnant with unspent relief,I feel like a nerve:Exposed and RawIn each hand,and no matter how brief,a choice to makeeach leaving me bourgeois.In hesitatingone is yet exhaustedleaving mewith nothing but one option.* This post is a lot about a specific decision I had to make, to most people it would have seemed mundane but I was sitting there in cold sweats dreading the outcome of my choice, wonder if you've ever felt that way?

  • The Land That Kept My Secret

    Tsundere Girl
    22 Apr 2012 | 1:48 pm
    There is a place,(it isn't well known)on the face of this Earth,Where the Moss Campion has grown.There is a lake,it's waters freezing still,where once upon a dateI gave up my free will.And to this day,where the frozen snow restsand heavily weighsupon a violet's chestThere lies the thingI cherished the most.With the broken stringof my childhood host.There evergreen,lies my spirit to fightnext to these peregrinetreasures of mine.There is a place,(it isn't well known)on the face of this Earthand the Campion still growsOne day when I come back,the land-overgrownwill greet me, intact,and have…

  • Trinkets for your thinking

    Tsundere Girl
    2 Apr 2012 | 7:47 pm
    For every stupid thing I've saidYou have a dime that's worse for wearYou claim the thoughts inside my headAnd pull them out into the airAs if a single golden coinCould be the thing that makes this rightYeah, to the victor go the spoilsAnd all my words can spoil the nightThey stain my lips, they stain the airAnd mark the atmosphere you breatheThey taint the ground on which you walkYeah, they can soil your precious streetsYou'll never pay me for discretionYou'll never bribe away the truthI'm so far gone beyond retentionYour efforts are a point that's mootA dam is loose, a seal is brokeThere's…

  • Broken Branches

    Tsundere Girl
    1 Apr 2012 | 2:14 pm
    Hold on to the illusion that one day it will get better,Hold on to it because you know the alternative is bitterAnd it’s quickerTo fight with a smile on your faceInstead of counting the time that you wasteWe had some wordsYeah, and we always came apartI never found my way back to the startAnd I can tellYou never really adjusted wellIn this purgatory or hell, you know...the place you dwellYou’re in limbo in my mindAnd I’m stuck in the rewindWrote it so many times –if only I could findJust a way-just a sentinel, some road to followI would beg, I would borrow, I would give away…

  • Felines of Hell

    Tsundere Girl
    17 Mar 2012 | 4:10 pm
    I thought that it might help if I stayed for a while, just completely still, motionless. I could feel a set of green eyes glowering in the dusk. I could stay still for a long time but something told me this once, when it was most needed, it couldn’t be long enough. Movement is change. I felt uncomfortable in the status quo of the moment but my every fiber was screaming against change. I didn’t know what would happen if I dared to change one thing, even something as insignificant as the position of my pinky. Lights grew dimmer, dusk swathed itself in night, becoming its very essence. The…
Log in