• Most Topular Stories

  • Lemon Wednesday (3/29 title by the staring man)

    something katy
    8 Apr 2015 | 7:20 pm
    http://jeffhayesfinearts.blogspot.com/2015/03/print-peeled-lemon.html  the stitch stings like lemon juice in a paper cut on a cloudy Wednesday when no one is in the mood to give any sympathy and spans the length of my entirety
  • The Land of Nod By James Arthur

    Poem of the Day
    Poetry Foundation
    24 Apr 2015 | 11:00 pm
    By James Arthur
  • 3rd-Grader of the Country School in Madison Wins Poetry Contest

    Poetry News
    23 Apr 2015 | 5:51 pm
    Congratulations to this talented Country School 3rd Grader! Her Haiku poem, "Snowlight," won first place in her age category in the Acton Library's 21st Annual Poetry Competition! Here's her poem: Snowlight Reflecting sun light. Shining brighter than the stars.
  • Jamie Kilstein - From "Dude Bros Get Super Mad When You Say Rape is Bad"

    IndieFeed: Performance Poetry
    24 Apr 2015 | 12:00 am
    Jamie Kilstein on IndieFeed Performance Poetry.  Show number 1483.
  • Poem of the Day: Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota

    Poem of the Day
    Nina Alvarez
    15 Apr 2015 | 12:41 pm
    Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly, Asleep on the black trunk, Blowing like a leaf in green shadow. Down the ravine behind the empty house, The cowbells follow one another Into the distances of the afternoon. To my right, In a field of sunlight between two pines, The droppings of last year’s horses Blaze up into golden stones. I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on. A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home. I have wasted my life. -James WrightFiled under: poem, poem of the day, poet, poetry, Write,…
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    Poetry News

  • 3rd-Grader of the Country School in Madison Wins Poetry Contest

    23 Apr 2015 | 5:51 pm
    Congratulations to this talented Country School 3rd Grader! Her Haiku poem, "Snowlight," won first place in her age category in the Acton Library's 21st Annual Poetry Competition! Here's her poem: Snowlight Reflecting sun light. Shining brighter than the stars.
  • Canton Library to Celebrate National Poetry Month

    23 Apr 2015 | 1:43 pm
    Canton Library Celebrates National Poetry Month with "Voices of Poetry-Off the Shelf" Bring poetry into your life on Saturday, April 25, at 2:30 p.m. with live poetry performances to celebrate National Poetry Month at the Canton Public Library. "Voices of Poetry-Off the Shelf," poetry readings by acclaimed poets and writers, will include Lori Desrosiers, Patrick Donnelly, Charles Fort, Chivas Sandage, and Elizabeth Thomas.
  • O, Miami 2015: Changing the Audience for Poetry

    23 Apr 2015 | 9:28 am
    Have you felt the urge to break into verse this month? Have you participated in any creative pursuits or stumbled upon any lyricisms? April is the time to do it, you know, and not only because it's National Poetry Month. For the third year running, 'tis the season of O, Miami, the month-long celebration of poetry, community, drink, fun, and clever silliness that aims to bring the world of poetry to your doorstep.
  • Black Country youngsters invited to enter poetry competition

    23 Apr 2015 | 5:28 am
    Energy company E.ON is encouraging youngsters aged between five and 11 to come up with a poem related to energy, with winning entries being published in a compilation book. The Powering Poetry competition forms part of the company's broader educational activities, developed to inform children about where energy comes from and how it is used in everyday lives.
  • Healing through poetry

    23 Apr 2015 | 1:14 am
    Academic Magnet High School in North Charleston hosted an evening of poetry Wednesday, dedicated to the family of Walter Scott. "There's a time for rage, you know," said United States Inaugural Poet Richard Blanco.
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    Poem of the Day

  • Poem of the Day: Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota

    Nina Alvarez
    15 Apr 2015 | 12:41 pm
    Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly, Asleep on the black trunk, Blowing like a leaf in green shadow. Down the ravine behind the empty house, The cowbells follow one another Into the distances of the afternoon. To my right, In a field of sunlight between two pines, The droppings of last year’s horses Blaze up into golden stones. I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on. A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home. I have wasted my life. -James WrightFiled under: poem, poem of the day, poet, poetry, Write,…
  • Poem of the Day: The Peace of Wild Things

    Nina Alvarez
    23 Mar 2015 | 7:41 pm
    When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free. -Wendell BerryFiled under: poem, poet, Write, Writer
  • Top 10 Poems of 2014

    Nina Alvarez
    2 Jan 2015 | 5:02 pm
    For the 7th year in a row, here are the TOP 10 POEMS of the year at NinaAlvarez.net. Thanks for being part of my community. Happy New Year. 1. Ithaca 2. I Walked a Mile with Pleasure 3. The Lost Son 4. Ithaca (Video) 5. The Unicorn 6. The Serpent 7. What You Should Know to be a Poet 8. Deathless Aphrodite of the Spangled Mind 9. Love Me Like You Never Loved Before 10. from Last PoemsFiled under: words
  • Poem of the Day: Weave in, My Hardy Life

    Nina Alvarez
    6 Oct 2014 | 2:58 pm
    Weave in, My Hardy Life Weave in, weave in, my hardy life, Weave yet a soldier strong and full for great campaigns to come, Weave in red blood, weave sinews in like ropes, the senses, sight weave in, Weave lasting sure, weave day and night the weft, the warp, incessant weave, tire not, (We know not what the use O life, nor know the aim, the end, nor really aught we know, But know the work, the need goes on and shall go on, the death- envelop’d march of peace as well as war goes on,) For great campaigns of peace the same the wiry threads to weave, We know not why or what, yet weave, forever…
  • NinaAlvarez.net Listed in Top 100 Inspiring Sites for Poets

    Nina Alvarez
    15 Jul 2014 | 11:46 am
    A collection of inspiring sites for poets and poetry has been published, and Poem of the Day is acknowledged on the list: http://mastersinenglish.org/poetry/ It’s an incredible honor. Many thanks, Master in English! (And many thanks to my actual masters in English. I’m still paying for you, so… keep it up.)Filed under: words
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    Poetmeister ...on the road to Parnassus

  • You. finito.

    28 Mar 2015 | 8:12 pm
    Once-king-on-the-mountain-you, soon to reign in the scrap pile of don juans & gigolos…………(cara mia) finally the finale…………………..(finito). Once a time moment in time…………………..( ahh.. memento) when your facade played the room to every dance face smiling by your propensity to infidelity & lies took them from ballroom girl-of-a-whirl inside your world of bar room girls the price they paid was total I am a whisper a throaty whisper which visits your ear, to echo throughout your mind…
  • National Readathon Day, 1pm-4pm, Jan. 24, 2015

    17 Jan 2015 | 11:28 am
    Join Readathon Day. Jump-start imagination, seize a good book! National Readathon Day info Filed under: Poetry
  • Private eye

    19 Mar 2014 | 10:04 pm
    Feeling without within, feeling alone together, lost in wondering found asunder, learning to look inward for outward signs, a pupil, too close for comfort, silent screaming, joyless, empty, aching, forever touchless.Filed under: Life, Poetry, Writing Tagged: aloneness, Introspection, Looking inward, Perception, the human condition
  • In the moment

    15 Mar 2014 | 3:00 pm
    In the moment; while being one with nature our soul is quickened.Filed under: Beauty, Haiku hybrid, Life, Nature, Photography, Poetry, Writing Tagged: blessing of nature, simple beauty, woods denizen
  • Ides of March

    14 Mar 2014 | 11:44 pm
    Ides of March will loom in Our Times for world-corrupt, as a bad omen for unchecked power, rules can change: see Human Spring. Action speaks louder than words ever did. Caution: Do not mock freedom- fighters will prevail; rogue orders obeyed, thine ovis Idulius, invite casualties.Filed under: Haiku hybrid, Poetry, Worldliness, Writing Tagged: Ides of March, Ides of March still a bad omen, ovis Idulius, sacrifice for the lesser gods
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    Wade on Birmingham » Daily Haiku

  • the clinking of glasses

    Wade Kwon
    24 Apr 2015 | 10:00 pm
    A happy noise rings out over and over with bubbly drinks and smiles. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.
  • two days’ grace

    Wade Kwon
    23 Apr 2015 | 10:00 pm
    Lie in meadows and breathe in fragrant winds and bask in joyous freedom. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.
  • coswar

    Wade Kwon
    23 Apr 2015 | 8:00 pm
    Nerds in Spandex line up for popcorn and trade tales of comic legends. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.
  • distracted guardians

    Wade Kwon
    21 Apr 2015 | 10:00 pm
    The angel on his shoulder was texting, while the devil was sexting. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.
  • down in the data mines

    Wade Kwon
    21 Apr 2015 | 7:40 am
    They chipped away at boulders looking for nuggets of consumer trends. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.
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    the amandzing way

  • Xenophobia – South Africa’s not-so-secret shame…or How to fuck up Mandela’s legacy

    23 Apr 2015 | 4:08 am
    It is a combination of the stench of raw sewage overlaid by frustration and desperation at a perceived theft of dignity by those who live in the Madala Mens’s Hostel which impales the senses. Residents of the hostel in Alexandra, east of Johannesburg in the Gauteng province of South Africa, were the target of the second raid by the South African Police Service (SAPS), supported by the South African National Defence Force (SANDF).  Generally considered a no-go area for police and outsiders alike, police were having none of it on Wednesday night as members stormed the building.  The…
  • #IcantEven

    12 Dec 2014 | 11:17 pm
    where have all the writings gone lost in the high definition 7 bajillion colour pixelated world of crash boom and specially effected bangs where have all the writings gone lost in a world of political correctness chopped just as surely as a mawkish teenager dancing in the beat of the night with inelegant steps whispering lustful i love yous on beer stained breath we dont see any more day by day we see even less the splitter tittle of water in a fountain the pattern of a dainty deer picked out against the bulk of a mountain green covered with the life of spring we dont hear any more day by day…
  • In black and white

    24 Nov 2014 | 9:29 am
    as black as sin black sheep of the family and like sheep everyone bleats black people this black people that even black people embrace, cuddle, masticate the words black people i dont know any black people i know people with black souls i know people with honey brown skin hazel, chocolate-coloured, coffee-coloured, cocoa-coloured nut-brown skins yet we fixate on black slack black, dirty black, light sucking black, black hole black aparthate planted the seeds of self hate it must be why else would a proud nation own black enjoy black it makes no sense to privileged caucasian me maybe my…
  • Rhino capture – not so easy

    25 Oct 2014 | 2:54 am
    4.30am – Kruger National Park, Mpumalanga, South Africa Long awaited spring rains finally arrived on Friday in the South African National Parks’ (SANParks) Kruger National Park in Mpumalanga. In Skukuza rest camp; there is a crisp freshness in the air, as the Kruger slowly awakened with the dawn. The storm clouds have been shredded by gale force winds during the night, leaving thin grey streaks of cloud in the sky. The rain is gone for now, but threatens still. Now all that remains is for rangers to track today’s first rhino for translocation. The process is in full swing now,…
  • old man Africa kissed me on the cheek

    26 Sep 2014 | 4:23 am
    old man Africa kissed me on the cheek the other day 2014 freedom day a day when he would remember a lifetime of wrong a day of sad song no one would blame him for wanting to dismember this caucasian this white this apartheid era ex-cop he was sitting on a chair in the sun i leaned close to him to ask him that stupid question reporters have to ask in post-apartheid south africa “Hello Grandfather, how does it feel being able to vote?” and as he smiled a thousand years smoothed from his face and i saw a proud young man in love with his country with his wife his children his life his…
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    Poems and Poetics

  • Jack Foley: from “Under the Influence,” Definitions & Prelude

    Jerome Rothenberg
    22 Apr 2015 | 8:50 am
     [The following is from a remarkable essay by Jack Foley, which presents a much needed counter proposition to ideas about “influence” & its “anxieties” that have been present without sufficient opposition in a prominent wing of American criticism & literary studies.  The complete essay continues at full throttle & in a meaningfully personal way to a discussion of the influence of the work of three canonical or near-canonical writers – Thomas Grey, James Joyce & Robert Duncan – on Foley’s own early work as a solid contributor to our developing sense of a…
  • Readings & Launches April to November 2015

    Jerome Rothenberg
    10 Apr 2015 | 5:49 am
     [In line with the recent publication of Poems for the Millennium, volume 5: Barbaric Vast & Wild and other new writings in English & other languages, the following readings & launches are scheduled for the coming year.  I will be posting & re-posting updates for these & others as the year progresses. (J.R.)] Participant, Poesia en Voz Alta (festival), Mexico D.F., April 14-19, 2015. Talk & reading on El Corno Emplumado, Centro Cultural Universitario Tlatelolco, Mexico, D.F., April 15, 2015 Reading/seminar, MesaCollege, San Diego, 7:00…
  • Lyn Hejinian: Turbulent Thinking

    Jerome Rothenberg
    6 Apr 2015 | 3:30 am
    Every work of art attests to lived experience and reminds us that another human has been here. Echoes aren’t inherently empty. The emotional encounter — the felt awareness of something other that is essentially a memory, but one emitted, as it were, by another — is crucial for our consciousness of history and a key to the good life. But it is in this way, too, that Death makes its appearance in a work of art. I’ll get to the quandary of the good life later. Inadequately, but that may be for the best. In Goya’s great painting ‘The Third of May 1808,’ we see before us a moment…
  • Ariel Resnikoff: A New Poem from “Avoidances,” with author’s note & commentary

    Jerome Rothenberg
    3 Apr 2015 | 5:52 am
    [Ariel Resnikoff is best known at this point for his translations from the Yiddish poetry of Mikhl Likht & others, but with “Avoidances” he clearly sets out as a composer of poems in his own right & in a line as well with other poets with whom he shares a name.  His Likht translations & his writings on Likht & Zukofsky have appeared several times on Poems and Poetics, & he has been resident since last September in the doctoral program at the University of Pennsylvania, where his good works continue(J.R.)]Teachings of the Magic Kohl-Rabi: AlephNo…
  • Poems for the Millennium, Volume 5: Barbaric Vast & Wild, now published & available from Black Widow Press

    Jerome Rothenberg
    30 Mar 2015 | 6:31 am
    POEMS FOR THE MILLENNIUM, VOLUME 5: Barbaric Vast & Wild: An Assemblage of Outside & Subterranean Poetry from Origins to PresentEdited with commentaries by Jerome Rothenberg and John Bloomberg-RissmanBarbaric Vast & Wild is a continuation and a possible culmination of the project that began with Jerome Rothenberg's Technicians of the Sacred in 1968 and led to the first four volumes of Poems for the Millennium in the 1990s and 2000s. In this new and equally groundbreaking volume, Rothenberg and John Bloomberg-Rissman have assembled a wide-ranging gathering of poems and related…
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    Wild Horses Of Fire

  • if your eyes aren’t here it’s not mine (Interview)

    Thom Donovan
    15 Apr 2015 | 6:27 am
    "My ‘ideal community’ is made of women over the age of fifty, Mom, angry teenagers, coyote pack sounds, forgotten bananas in the freezer, and the permission granted in banal niceties such as ‘sorry’ or ‘thank you’. I was on a competitive swim team for most of my adolescence and I never got good. People kept thinking I’d improve my time, be faster, everyone else seemed to be doing it, but I never did. I became obsessed with getting faster, but not because I wanted to earn points for my team (I was far away from ever doing that) but because it felt like a funny abstraction…
  • Ancients no. 2 (ed. Brandon Shimoda)

    Thom Donovan
    13 Apr 2015 | 6:16 am
    records-ancients-mattersANCIENTS No. TWOa photocopied reproduction of a stack of paper, featuring collages, drafts, drawings, dreams, emails, essays, hair, notes, poems, receipts, and trash, byAmber Atiya, Sarah Boyer, Sam Christopher, Phil Cordelli, Dot Devota, Thom Donovan, Yanara Friedland, Ally Harris, Christine Shan Shan Hou, Jared Joseph, Purdey Lord Kreiden, Carrie Lorig, Feliz Lucia Molina, Caitie Moore, John Niekrasz, Christopher Rey Pérez, Kit Schlüter, Ben Segal, Robert Snyderman, Yosuke Tanaka, Michael Thomas Taren, Cassandra Troyan, and Jackie Wang. Cover photograph…
  • Withdrawals: Occult Poetics & Sociopolitical Practice

    Thom Donovan
    6 Apr 2015 | 6:59 am
    I'm super excited to announce that in the fall I will be teaching a graduate course at Parsons that looks at writers and artists who use occult/spiritual/mystical techniques as a means of vitalizing/mediating their sociopolitical engagements/activisms. Some of the writers we will look at include Bhanu Jacasta Kapil, Robert Kocik, Fred Moten, Jalal Toufic, Etel Adnan, Rob Halpern, Eleni Stecopoulos, Brandon Shimoda, Melissa Buzzeo, Nathaniel Mackey, and CA Conrad. The full course description is in the link below: Withdrawals: Occult Poetics & Sociopolitical…
  • Interview with Cassandra Troyan

    Thom Donovan
    31 Mar 2015 | 10:35 am
    at The New Inquiry"For the masochist the relationship to one’s desire is always negotiated through a liminal libidinal space traversing the opposing thresholds of dominance and control. It enables a framework for looking outside the conventional expectation of trauma as a context, mediator, and influence of the masochist’s ‘abberant’ behavior. One of the central hopes in KILL MANUAL is an attempt to rethink the power of the bottom, or what it means to willingly choose to enter spaces of subjugation when multiple domains of life are already operating through mechanisms of…
  • Danny Hayward's People (review)

    Thom Donovan
    22 Mar 2015 | 12:29 pm
    How to exit the prison house of certain historical circuits between Marxist- Hegelianism and poetry (from Shelley to Symbolism to Objectivism and Lang Po to post-Occupy)? Or, twisting the words of Stuart Hall, what would a Marxist poetry “without guarantee” look like? http://poetryproject.org/wp-content/uploads/PPNL-APR-MAY-14-final-final-final-final.pdf
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    A window Within Myself

  • ~Cleansing of the Sea~

    21 Apr 2015 | 5:48 pm
    Have you ever came close eye to an eye ..that you stared at your mind and thoughts. What does it look like. I imagine it to be a net… different ropes knotted with each other to create a net. Thoughts flows rapidly within the chain of ropes, yet our troubled thoughts and worries stumbles in theses knots.. Suffocating, calling to be untangled. The exercise of detangling is merely not an easy journey… Whenever I use to have a chocking thoughts calling on me to release it when I was younger the ultimate way is to throw my thoughts towards the sea. It was just as the sunlight breaking though…
  • ~His Rose~

    29 Jan 2015 | 12:55 pm
    Think.. Think of a rose. Can you imagine it .Can you see what color is it? Can you feel the touch of it petals… Not many of us dislike roses.. in fact roses are symbol of beauty. Wouldn’t you think, that roses not only a symbol of beauty but it is symbol of love and appreciation to our other half. When a man unites with his woman in marriage, its like acquiring a rose or he see his woman as pretty as the rose or prettier that a rose. That perception it can last.. Not just a year, it can be longer. Let us leave to husbands to give an answer to that.  The beginning is the marriage and…
  • ~Touching Your Dream~

    8 Dec 2014 | 10:06 pm
    For me to brush...Your skies Closer to touch... Your dream The glimpse of youTotally denied I'm left recallingRemaining of your wordsA melody within the skies copyright 2014 Nasra Al Adawi 
  • Penned Thoughts

    7 Dec 2014 | 12:02 pm
  • ~I see you through me~

    3 Nov 2014 | 10:19 am
    When blankness take placeYou are the essence of nourishing me Coming when I’m not expecting Taking over my being This is the beginning of my existence Life begins at your hands Your change the prospectiveMy world is in in your hands I see through you my childcopyright  2014 Nasra Al Adawi 
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    Sad Poems

  • Silent Atlas

    24 Apr 2015 | 8:04 pm
    my broken dolls. their fragile plastic smiles. weightless anchors in the contagion of our discontent. she paused. her voice thick with regret. paper bridges under the heft of the sun. pieces of the math. that sorts. the bones and the flesh. the little lies. and the big ones. all crimson and pus. the uneven tableau of our voices. all the pulleys and levers that spoil the physics. the thrust of velocity. the recoil of spin. the perpendiuclar science of want. merciless monsters bartering in flesh. lost kites and torn balloons in the ozone of our forfeit. the cage. the sanguine crucifix of her…
  • Opening the Bridge

    21 Apr 2015 | 9:17 pm
    solvent hours in the millenia of her want. no flames. just ashes. the mystery of loss. the consent of gravity. the compromise of how. just pictures. moments in their puddles. drying up. raw edges folded under. soft creases coming undone. the distance in ribbons. all ripe scabs and sour blood. the bishop in the shadow of the king. poised to the rook. the truth is a strategy in a game of fiction. the journey becomes us. a thunder of narrow bridges and a whisper of stop signs. in the confluence of capacity. numb fingers chewing on the wind. toothless predators gathering their poisons. the…
  • Exemplary Predators

    14 Apr 2015 | 9:20 pm
    the distance doesn't change. only the ways in which we measure it. our speed is constant. it's the terrain that varies. time became. all vanishing points and crisis. shaky sketches in pastels and watercolor. the manic art of humility and surrender. like all love is. shadows followed. relentless phantoms in the egress of her thoughts. miles unfolded. crisp and virulent. the fevered virus of life. she took the turns. or so she thought. grieving in the creases of her tattered maps. touch a ratio. trust a constant. her math crumbling. a quiet inferno. all saltwater taffy and bitten fingernails.
  • Cascading Ambivalence

    11 Apr 2015 | 9:10 pm
    her splintered scars. her creased resolve. stories unto themselves. her words. naked thieves. her choices. toothless saws. perspective. it builds. in feeble increments. the crushed template from which we derive our portraits. perspective. it swells. like wooden bridges over shallow waters. her hunger, like an open dress. her desire taut elastic.her loyalty all dead poets and arsenic. moments skipping rope. and tragedies feasting with their mouths open. all those small monsters looking large. as they lean in closer. perspective. it whispers of reason. while it screamss madness. all its angles…
  • Small Failures

    3 Apr 2015 | 9:54 pm
    the distance laughed out loud. an empty, roiling storm over a desert too arid to ever be quenched. the distance shivered. a naked child bereft of its mother's arms. throbbing in a curtain of hot tears as the miles thoughtlessly accrued. the scenery stared back at her. as if she was there. swallowing her progress. in shallow cuts and dirty bandages. the pull of the journey. sharp angles. blunt addictions. all the foul circumstance and tepid lectures any given moment can muster. the dubious philosophies of sour men and eager strangers. stilted embers in a dying fire. permanent creases in the…
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  • mmccclxxi

    22 Apr 2015 | 11:01 pm
    A Little Discipline Never Hurt AnybodyMy Great-Grandma Mollytaught me how to playdominos and Wa-Hoo(a home-made boardgame now sold asSorry™) on her front porch.  The soundtrack to my life is stunninglyspringlike.  Last night lurked (with vibrato) instead of I worked.  Note that I’ve had a very sore left foot (see photo of limp, below).  Grandma Molly also dipped snuff andcollected magnets.Some of us have apair of little persons (?),one on each shoulder.Watch them stretchupward to…
  • mmccclxx

    21 Apr 2015 | 9:22 am
    SelfnessOdd misreadingof Salinas.Worked outbrieflylike meetingJenn for1st timein eonsheading downto Selfnessafter shoppingin Montreal(misreadingMom and...)...
  • mmccclxix

    19 Apr 2015 | 2:34 pm
    The Millennial WidowThis season, I’m finding it increasingly difficult to play the lead in this tragedy, given the absurdly exponential amount of joy—sheer ecstasy, really—in this humble nut-shell; my so-called life.An electrical engineer,the Hadron Collider,and a nuclear reactorwalk into a bar.... 
  • mmccclxviii

    18 Apr 2015 | 3:54 pm
    Stories I’m Not Supposed to Tell                    We’re reminded that          Truthful is an antonym for romantic.                       —Michael MalinowiczThe dilettantes terrorizedthe hordes of drunkenSantas.  It had beensuggested (advised) thatthis, our historicallyjubilant metaphoricalcommingling of bloodand market was to beNO FUN this go-roundand so, donning masks,(black and white…
  • mmccclxvii

    17 Apr 2015 | 5:49 am
    She would probably killfor me: my feelings are too stupid for words                               —Michael MalinowiczIt would quite logically flow that,if yesterday actually occurred,I wouldn’t be sitting here nowattempting to relay my story to you.My recollection is hairy.  By which Imean it's like a fogbank.  Fogbanklike.And while the pieces each and all arevague, it hurts not to think about it.My head.  It hurts.  My…
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  • Goss 183 Interview: 11-28-09

    Adam Fieled
    22 Apr 2015 | 11:23 am
    What is your poetic statement? My statement involves integrating narrative, emotion, and sexuality into experimental poetry. I feel that I arrived at a moment in which things had reached a peak of extreme dryness— I was taught that open affectivity and eroticism were crimes. It’s been my pleasure to rebel against these conventions (though I respect the work my predecessors have done) in my
  • From Shelfari: Apparition Poems (Scribd)

    Adam Fieled
    21 Apr 2015 | 8:49 am
  • Shelfari, Author's Den Emendations

    Adam Fieled
    19 Apr 2015 | 2:34 pm
    I've put some work into refurbishing several Shelfari pages: Apparition Poems, Chimes, When You Bit...; and also re-worked several on Author's Den: Returns, Chimes, Apparition Poems, When You Bit... Cheers.
  • To Grieve

    Adam Fieled
    17 Apr 2015 | 12:51 pm
    Every day I'd stop at a corner-joint, buy water ice, take it with me down St. Marks Place, guitar slung over shoulder, nose-ringed, blonde, ripped shirt, jeans. Washington Square would be the place to kill time before the studio— jams, joints in dim alleys. Yet when I'd scan the horizon, I saw two buildings a lot less securely affixed then they seemed. In my stoned haze, I was convinced of
  • That Bruce Nauman character...('09)

    Adam Fieled
    16 Apr 2015 | 4:08 pm
    When Bruce Nauman was working under the direction of Leo Castelli in the late 1960s, Castelli bequeathed to him some video equipment. Nauman used the equipment to make short, pointed films like Art Make-Up. As minimal and potentially arid as the film is (it consists of Nauman smearing white and black paint over his naked body), the ideas it presents raise questions that seem to be products of
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    Chicano Poet

  • 23 Apr 2015 | 4:49 pm

    23 Apr 2015 | 4:49 pm
    Kurt BuschThe Kurt Buschof poetryhe don’t put upwith no stinking poetshe’ll kick their precious booksacross the floorthe Poetry Foundationhas banned himfrom its sissy pagesAmerican Poetry Reviewwill have nothing to dowith himhe kissed and told a woman’s very private poetryhe rammed his carinto the buildingwhich housesthe Pitt Poetry Seriesonce or twice he assaultedinnocent haikusso don’t bringyour pantywaist poetry around hereunless you want your asswrapped around the iambic pentameter
  • 22 Apr 2015 | 5:54 pm

    22 Apr 2015 | 5:54 pm
    Mirageafter e. bishopde repentethe bus driverstops the buswith a joltleans backin his seata Mexicanhas walked outof the insane desertand stands theretall, dust-coveredin the middle of the roadel apeste del autobusrises like Americabut the Mexicanhas disappeared
  • 14 Apr 2015 | 5:44 pm

    14 Apr 2015 | 5:44 pm
    Mi Tejanafor la erikaShe's hot and humidlike Corpus Christi.She's unbearablelike summer in the Rio Grande Valley.She's noisy and wildlike the Southside of San Antonio.She's arrogantlike Houston drivers.She's got great thighslike the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders.She can be coldlike Lubbock winters.She can be alooflike distant Amarillo.She can drive me to the edgelike Old El Paso,but she's always therewhen I forget what town I'm in.
  • 13 Apr 2015 | 6:48 pm

    13 Apr 2015 | 6:48 pm
    Otra VidaAs furlessas a Mexican dogI wanderedout of the barriocrossed the tracks whereeverything turned whitenot welcomedI put my tailbetween my legslowered my shouldersfolded back my earsand determinedto stick it outI still don't knowwhat happenedto my barrio
  • 12 Apr 2015 | 5:41 pm

    12 Apr 2015 | 5:41 pm
    The Side Effects Of PoetryThe girl in the seatin front of meat the Malvern Bookspoetry readingkept fiddlingwith her hairputting a barretteon this sideand then onthat sideof her wavy brown hairmesmerizing mewith thoughts eruptingwhere everythingin that faraway landwould be perfectand justsuddenly poetryrearedits ugly headbut the scentof that girlclung to my jeansthat afternoonand did not dissipateuntil evening
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  • rainy illusion

    gautami tripathy
    29 Mar 2015 | 11:27 am
    when the fiery wind sings Old Bank Street, Manchester, UK by R.A.D. Stainforth you hold my arm (it makes a nice frame for pictures) you have mastered that craft to create illusions just a deal,... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]
  • broken like that venus

    gautami tripathy
    1 Mar 2015 | 9:23 am
    the ghost of a sky opens up for us showing a glimpse of its mighty angerby the way of thunder but lightning is really the path if a circle can be called that fear of the unknown tears into... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]
  • fly away

    gautami tripathy
    22 Feb 2015 | 8:42 am
    perched on the precipice  of uncut emotions the delicate yearning never stops the petals may bloom rivulets may fall into the river but the blues will not leave me alone such a hopeless... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]
  • not just a comma

    gautami tripathy
    15 Feb 2015 | 8:13 am
    emptiness what of it, why act on it? just a state of blankness held by silent tears  which dry before they fall the child curls into a comma questing for loving warmth but the cold cobbled... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]
  • all in a day's work....

    gautami tripathy
    8 Feb 2015 | 8:48 am
    Action Figures by Edith VonnegutI emit anger and look like a clown half naked with a vacuum cleaner still it does not instill fear in my kids, rather burst into fits of laughter they throw their... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]
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    something katy

  • If I was everything you thought I was (4/29 title by Nicole McLemon)

    20 Apr 2015 | 8:01 am
    everything I am, you know, you thought you knew. from pearls to pointe with curls and curves and minty fresh retorts to your boring anecdotes i am everything you know and i am more than you could ever imagine.
  • Lemon Wednesday (3/29 title by the staring man)

    8 Apr 2015 | 7:20 pm
    http://jeffhayesfinearts.blogspot.com/2015/03/print-peeled-lemon.html  the stitch stings like lemon juice in a paper cut on a cloudy Wednesday when no one is in the mood to give any sympathy and spans the length of my entirety
  • Yeast. Bees? Geese. (2/29 title by Evan)

    2 Apr 2015 | 4:16 pm
    Part 1: Yeast. ... don't give my any of your nano-brewery bullshit it was made in a bathtub wasn't it? Part 2: Bees? ... those aren't sweaters, that's... just the color of their fur. ... or whatever.  fuzz.  i don't know what bees are made of, do i? Part 3: Geese. feathers and monocles.  right. and nick frost is going to jump right out of this whoopee pie that is really some cake
  • luscious frustration (1/29 title by Daniella)

    2 Apr 2015 | 2:24 pm
    the way your whole heart warms up at the sight of him, making stupid faces at a friendly stray cat when he doesn't know you're watching. fun, cute, you think you can do the same so you make a stupid face at him and the only reply is a scowl when you know he can be just as dumb and fun as you want him to be. but stray cats get all the looks.
  • Poetry Month

    1 Apr 2015 | 6:39 pm
    I am not participating in any special poetry month projects.  That's not a very good reason why I shouldn't try to write more this month than my recent normal amount.  Poetry forthcoming. 
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    this is all your fault

  • Dear New Jersey,

    19 Apr 2015 | 8:33 am
    With your yellow bird-like people and your people like birds, with your bisected jade skies and your sullen-faced nephews, with your sheets of dark glass replacing lakes, your floating teal dry-cleaners, your saffron clouds clinging to roads that end in staircases, how you cuddle me as we huddle smoking on the whitewashed porch, while the crows call like broken hinges, as our unborn toddlers
  • Under the Rec Room Sofa

    18 Apr 2015 | 5:25 pm
    Questions about home scrawled all over white looseleaf. A solid black square with a triangle on top, the white word “heart” in all caps in the center. Random pictures of birds: chickadees, nuthatches, a kingfisher tucked into apple blossoms. Ads about women's hair cut out and pasted on – a dozen vintage hairstyles involving curls and wigs. All the women are smiling and wearing lipstick,
  • Earthquake Season

    17 Apr 2015 | 6:14 pm
    The mouse bounds along the bottom of the chain link fence: its paws and underside are light tan – its fur darkens along the spine, dark brown with long strands of charcoal gray. The mouse runs with its tail just above the ground – twice as long as its body – long, kinked pale flesh, like a human scar. He runs past the coke bottles and scrap metal, past the plywood and piles of sand and shells.
  • How to Make a Woman's Shoe

    14 Apr 2015 | 7:11 pm
    Your mother is weeping in a corner. She sits so high up, on pillows and bandages, that she is almost invisible, just a shadow on the underside of a cloud. You and your sisters are wrestling on the sparkling granite floor, tearing each other's hair and clothes. Wearing pumpkin and skeleton masks, the nurses swoop in and out, checking the dials on the walls and injecting blue fluid into the
  • Light green,

    12 Apr 2015 | 7:04 pm
    glowing inside with the machinery of blonde seeds. A cool hunk, warts and all. Ground into drinks, into chips, into soda pop. The essence eludes the taster, the holder. Turns bitter and sharp over time, when set in vinegar. Darkens, loosens, softens. Shrinks. Is sliced often. Is ignored and discarded daily. I don't know why: why don't you ask? In the form of a girl, it is shy,
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    Silliman's Blog

  • 24 Apr 2015 | 9:00 pm

    24 Apr 2015 | 9:00 pm
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  • 22 Apr 2015 | 9:00 pm

    22 Apr 2015 | 9:00 pm
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  • 19 Apr 2015 | 9:00 pm

    19 Apr 2015 | 9:00 pm
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  • 16 Apr 2015 | 9:00 pm

    16 Apr 2015 | 9:00 pm
    <!--[if gte mso 9]> 14.00 <![endif]--> Nathaniel Mackey hosts Tanganyika Strut 2004 <!--[if gte mso 9]> Normal 0 false false false EN-US X-NONE X-NONE <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]>
  • 12 Apr 2015 | 10:50 am

    12 Apr 2015 | 10:50 am
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    The Best American Poetry

  • 10 POETS FOR THE REVOLUTION [by Christopher Soto]

    Christopher Soto
    24 Apr 2015 | 9:07 am
    Many of the early-career poets that I come across in MFA programs, major publications, conferences, readings are writing in a similar fashion— first person narrative poems, left aligned, less than one page in length, tight language, controlled temperament, image centric, high lyric… Sometimes, I read these poems and spin in their artistic splendor. Sometimes, I read them and feel cold (as if I’m hugging a dead body at the morgue, a lifeless body in its finest cloths). Sometimes, I pray to Audre Lorde, Gloria Anzaldua, June Jordan, Essex Hemphill, Amiri Baraka, Adrienne Rich, Tatiana de…
  • Three Stranger Encounters of the New York Kind [by Alan Ziegler]

    Alan Ziegler
    23 Apr 2015 | 12:55 pm
    I reach a supermarket corner—a one-way aisle with two-way traffic—and encounter a suited man. When on a collision course with a stranger, you choreograph a little dance ending with a nod and a smile. One of us will have to do the back steps of the supermarket cha-cha. He barrels through, declaring “I don’t negotiate.” He won’t dance; don’t ask him. * I make my way to exit through the rear door of the 104 bus, dreading the walk up the hill against the bitter wind. I feel a sting on the back of my head and turn to see a deranged stranger eyeing me with disdain. I process the…
  • SAD GURL: The Consumption and Contextualization of POC Pain [by Christopher Soto]

    Christopher Soto
    23 Apr 2015 | 5:44 am
    I always wanted to be a sad white girl. I wanted to be sad like Lana Del Rey. I wanted a sadness that could be so universal, that it’d move everyone to tears. A sadness that everyone could relate to. “I want a summertime, summertime sadness.” … Yes, I’ve experienced that before. I know where that’s coming from. Lately, I’ve been thinking about the contextualization of POC sadness. My sadness is viewed in terms of all that is surrounding it. My sadness is about domestic violence, homelessness, queerness, gender dysphoria, intergenerational trauma passed down from the Salvadorean…
  • Will Gary at Cafe Loup, December 2012

    The Best American Poetry
    22 Apr 2015 | 9:26 pm
    The late Will Gary flashes his irresistible smile as he joins David Lehman for late-night hijinks at Cafe Loup, December 2012. Gabriel Don was there with her camera and snapped this picture. One year later Will, 46, died in Brooklyn's Methodist Hospital after treatment for damage to vertebrae in his neck — a herniated cervical disk, the result of a gym injury. In addition to being the best-looking security guard in Manhattan, Will was also possibly the friendliest, and his presence at the front desk of 66 West 12th Street was all the assurance that anyone teaching or studying there needed…
  • LETTERS TO OUR MAMIS Y PAPIS: LOVE FOR QUEER MENTORS [by Christopher Soto & friends]

    Christopher Soto
    22 Apr 2015 | 4:56 pm
    I wanted to do a fun / campy post where some of my queer poet friends could celebrate the people who have helped them develop as writers and humans. (Where we could celebrate the people who let us imagine a world outside of corporate slumber and heteronormative family models). Quickly, I’d like to thank some of my mentors- Griselda Suarez, Eduardo C Corral, William Johnson. Love you so much! For letting me know that I could be brown, queer, a poet, and FIERCE and surrounded / affirmed by community. For guiding me and holding me and feeding me and laughing with/at me and creating…
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    Harriet: The Blog

  • Post-Poetry, Part 2: Outpost/Outland

    Noel Black
    24 Apr 2015 | 2:00 pm
    What’s that bright spot on Ceres? Dear Divya, So there you are in Singapore, and here I am in Colorado Springs, both of which are sort of conflicted homeworlds for both of us, and outlands to the centers of poetic industry (haw haw). When Marina and I moved back here from San Francisco in 2001, we were dot-com refugees. We’d gotten evicted from our apartment, and we had a baby and no careers. I’d been working at Good Vibrations in The Mission for a couple years, hanging out with the poets who’d sort of quantized around New College. But there was already a sense that…
  • 5 Hours of National Poetry Month

    Yolanda Wisher
    24 Apr 2015 | 12:00 pm
    For the uberx driver who thought it a coincidence that my name was Yolanda like the Yolanda Adams he was listening to on the radio at the exact moment my request came through. For asking me, is this music okay with you? Gospel music, fine. Not my first choice, but fine. For my mama, who calls to tell me she saw me in the local paper, who tells me to burn it down if they don’t fix my quote. For my mother who reminds me of my sister’s five-hour operation on Monday in Pittsburgh. For Yvette. 1. 4/16, 9:30-10:30am: “Morning Feed” on G-town Radio with Ed Feldman, Germantown/Philly For the…
  • Sound Is Bob Kaufman, Poet

    Jericho Brown
    24 Apr 2015 | 10:00 am
    [A version of this talk was given at AWP in Minneapolis on April 10th, 2015 as part of the Neglected American Masters panel with James Allen Hall, Yona Harvey, and Richard Siken.] Every poet is an ambassador. Sometimes I’m so desperate I fly from the bottom of the country to the top just so I can talk about Bob Kaufman. Here is some of what I said about him in a conversation I had on “neglected American masters”: A couple of weeks ago, in what I am sure was an act of irony, the poem-a-day administered by poets.org featured a piece that made me laugh out loud when I opened my email. The…
  • Notes for National Corpse Month, Part Five

    Brandon Shimoda
    24 Apr 2015 | 8:00 am
    The day before his wedding, my father took us to the Killing Fields. My sister and I, our stepsister and stepbrothers, their mother and our father, I say, though I don’t remember him being there. We were taken to the Killing Fields, Choeung Ek, and then we were there—walking in the grass, looking at thousands of skulls … Walking aimlessly … The grass, the beaten mounds … The skulls. No trace … The sky was white. The air was vacuous and depressed. There was no beautiful earth, and soundlessness, until a group of children started chasing my stepbrother around the fields.

    Jennifer Tamayo
    24 Apr 2015 | 6:00 am
    Featuring Wo Chan, Sonia Guiñansaca, Janine Joseph and Javier Zamora– poets refusing to be silenced.  Homepage image courtesy of Julio Salgado: http://juliosalgado83.tumblr.com   Wo Chan is a Kundiman Fellow, Lambda Literary Fellow, Poets House Emerging Literary Fellow, and a Margins Fellow at the Asian American Writers’ Workshop–as well as a make-up artist and a performer with the Brooklyn drag alliance, Switch n’ Play. Interview with Chan in Lambda Literary: Why do you think that journals have such discriminatory policies in place? You have to ask yourself the…
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    Dunstan Carter : Poetry

  • We Can’t Believe You’ve Got This Far

    15 Apr 2015 | 5:20 pm
    You’ve tasted it, Now make it, Get out your Knives and pans, Your plans and dreams, Ingredients and spoons, You’ve only got one hour. Break out on your own, Strive forth with a purpose And sever all ties With those that you love, The ones that you cherish And hold dear. Forget them. They’re Gone. Start your life afresh And take a new name, Live in a new city, Where no one recognises Your face, Where no one knows the things That you’ve been through, Your sorrows and crimes And all those harrowing times You told us about earlier. Become invisible. A ghost. And do your best Not…
  • The Possibilities Of Defeat

    4 Apr 2015 | 5:10 pm
    The spotlight fell, He had a chance To say something different, An opportunity to sing And hear others sing along; It seemed like one of those ‘Just add water and stir’ moments, Sweat glistened on his forehead Like the promise of fame Was lighting it’s hearth And sidling in for the kill, Hiding cackles In the crackles Of the fire, Raising hackles, Rattling shackles, He was wired. The crowd drew in breaths And sat hungry, But his first words were forced And he choked, His lips looked dry And his eyes twitched, He had the greatest speech The crowd had ever heard, But his tie…
  • An Old Hermit’s Song

    26 Mar 2015 | 6:09 pm
    Pleasure to him Is a trouble dressed up With nowhere to go, An unexpected Dance of disturbance In a world where the dead Have lost most of their meaning, And the living Are tickling fools. The wrinkled idiot In the corner of his brain Reckons we are dealing with The power of tormented scorpions, A biblical mirage gone wrong. I like to think he’s just restless, A changeless whisper Returning to life As soon as panic sets in, A turbulent thinker, An old hermit’s song.
  • Dry Lips Gifting

    20 Mar 2015 | 4:47 pm
    You couldn’t really Call them words, They were Murmured melodies, Half way between Groaning and laughter, Dry lips gifting A quick whispered epilogue, The tiniest circles of spittle Gently frothing to a close; It’s the sound people make When they suddenly realise There’s no longer Any need to explain Every awkward mistake, To balance out The feelings of others And talk just to starve silence. To some it’s a sigh, A release, A full stop, To me it’s the sound As a distant star pops.
  • Smoke Plumes

    28 Feb 2015 | 3:41 pm
    Smoke plumes Break the stillness, A high pitched siren Splits the white noise And the rise of barking dogs Disturbs the scattered birds; Curtains twitch with worry, Skin quivers in the darkness And naturally we fear the worst. Not one of us guessed It was a gas leak, We’ve all seen the news, Absorbed the sad faces And used excuses to prove We are golden. Now we drink tea, Hold hands and sing Our own propaganda, As the soft subtle dance Of ash gently descending Tells its own simple story And fades, Settling at our feet And forgetting Everything, Anything Real.
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    Robert Peake

  • Quadrapheme Names The Knowledge a Book of the Month

    Robert Peake
    22 Apr 2015 | 2:52 pm
    Eleanor Franzen, managing editor of Quadrapheme, has picked The Knowledge as one of their best books in April. Particularly notable is that it makes their cut alongside four accomplished prose writers. (Take that, cruelest month.) Quadrapheme is a totally independent literature review site, which receives no funding from either publishers or  the British Arts Council, so ostensibly they say what they like (and don’t) as they please. Franzen notes the collection’s, “mindfulness of the human place within a network of relationships in the natural world, the consequences…
  • Four Poems from The Knowledge Online

    Robert Peake
    21 Apr 2015 | 5:02 am
    Cheryl Olsen of the We Wanted to be Writers blog is kindly running four poems from The Knowledge, including the eponymous piece itself, on their website. While some of these poems are previously published, most have never been on the web before. So, if you have been keen to take a peek inside the cover, now’s your chance. Many thanks to the WW2BW crew for putting these poems in front of their readership. The post Four Poems from The Knowledge Online appeared first on Robert Peake.
  • Rogue Strands of The Knowledge Deftly Woven

    Robert Peake
    19 Apr 2015 | 11:00 pm
    Matthew Stewart of the Rogue Strands blog tussles with The Knowledge in a new review on his website, and comes away invigorated from the struggle. He takes firm hold of two key threads in the collection — loss of innocence, and relating to London as an outsider — through deft commentary and concrete example. He calls the work “ambitious” and “cunning” and decides “one of Peake’s stand-out qualities is his ability to bring his poems to an arresting close”. Most encouragingly, he upholds that despite being written by an…
  • The Knowledge Has Arrived!

    Robert Peake
    19 Apr 2015 | 3:46 am
    On Friday, I attended a small private London launch for the second edition of a book by my friend and former boss, David Allen. His methodology has been the key to creating the space in my life for poetry amidst a dynamic career in technology and management consulting, and a generally full trans-Atlantic life. Having sold more than two million copies of his Getting Things Done book in nearly 30 languages, I jokingly asked over lunch for any tips on avoiding hand cramp when signing great numbers of books at once. Pre-orders for my debut full-length poetry collection The Knowledge have, after…
  • The Knowledge Gets Sabotaged

    Robert Peake
    8 Apr 2015 | 11:18 am
    Bethany W. Pope of Sabotage Reviews took a critical eye to an advance review copy of The Knowledge, and found it every bit as surprising as I hoped it might be to a perceptive reader. She begins her review: Robert Peake’s The Knowledge (Nine Arches Press) is a subtle, tender collection whose mixture of narrative and descriptive images inexorably draws the reader on to (occasionally painful) revelation. And concludes: Peake’s great strength is that he knows what death is, and is not afraid to make us look at it. The fact that he leads us there slowly, moving with precise and careful…
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    Best Poems

  • How Can It Be

    Barbara B-Miles Jackson
    24 Apr 2015 | 10:54 am
    Barbara Miles Jackson How can it be, when did it happen, That the area is hill tops and valleys. See the sky light from one hill top to the next, Hill and valleys, hill and valleys, Must like life. From:  In the Courtyard Copyright ©:  2009 & 2000 read more
  • No Shelter

    Ehsan Sehgal
    23 Apr 2015 | 11:12 pm
    Ehsan Sehgal There is not hurting In the company Of the spiritual people Islam does not teach Wrong things Actions will have to calculate There is no shelter To hide from the God.
  • What I Do

    Ehsan Sehgal
    23 Apr 2015 | 11:09 pm
    Ehsan Sehgal Anyone comes Anyone goes What I do I have left thinking I have broken off From the world I have not the ambition And nor the intention The result of the desires Is only sadnessread more
  • The Mystery

    Ehsan Sehgal
    23 Apr 2015 | 11:04 pm
    Ehsan Sehgal I am the living mystery My forces are Three hundred thirteen That has no death I have the seven powers Since my birth Gifted by the spirituality Through the Divine way There is no needread more
  • If I AM

    Ehsan Sehgal
    23 Apr 2015 | 11:02 pm
    Ehsan Sehgal If I am in university I forget my worries I see the students The boys and girls And the beauty, The smiling faces, The inviting eyes I look in their styles Each girl is in love read more
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    Magma Poetry » Blog

  • Blog Review 42: Lisa Kelly Reviews ‘Imagined Sons’ by Carrie Etter

    Lisa Kelly
    30 Mar 2015 | 8:28 am
    Carrie Etter’s Imagined Sons doesn’t have a jacket that would make me buy the book. It quotes Bernard O’Donoghue: “These are poems of the utmost importance,” while artist Paula Rego’s cover image of St Christina with a swaddled baby on her back is admittedly beautiful, but miserable. Feeling like a recalcitrant pupil having to engage with ‘heavy’ poems I probably won’t enjoy is not an ideal starting point. Flipping to the back cover, however, I am reassured by the smiling face of Etter, a widely-published American expatriate lecturing in creative writing at Bath Spa…
  • Magma Competition celebratory evening at Keats House

    Wes Brown
    16 Mar 2015 | 5:46 am
    Why not join us for a celebratory evening with Magma Competition judge and special guest Jo Shapcott at Keats House on Friday March 27th, 7-8.30pm, when the winners of the 2014/15 Magma Competition will read their prizewinning poems. Venue: Nightingale Room, 10 Keats Grove, Hampstead, London NW3 2RR (nearest station: Hampstead Heath Overground / ten minutes walk from Hampstead tube station) Doors open 6.30 pm. FREE admission includes a glass of wine, but donations welcome. Please RSVP here or contact sales@magmapoetry.com for more information. 
  • Blog Review 41: Katherine Stansfield Reviews ‘The Midlands’ by Tony Williams

    Katherine Stansfield
    6 Mar 2015 | 2:13 am
    Tony Williams’ second collection, The Midlands, begins on a rather gloomy note, with the first line proclaiming, ‘The Midlands are crying’. But the detail of what provokes the despair makes it convincing, heartfelt and all the more pervasive: They cry in the carparks of aerodromes, deep in the cellars         of buildings that used to be bookshops. They cry over fences, at steam-engine rallies.         They cry over dogs and bags of granulated sugar. The poem tells us that ‘Here is neither one thing nor the…
  • Blog Review 40: Richie McCaffery Reviews ‘Bedouin of the London Evening: Collected Poems’ by Rosemary Tonks

    Richie McCaffery
    2 Feb 2015 | 12:26 am
    It says something, perhaps, about the power and mystery of Rosemary Tonks’ life (once the toast of literary 1960s Soho, turned religious recluse who repudiated all of her work) that I should have heard of her long before I read one of her poems. The image I had of her was a person who had disowned the craft of poetry but was still followed by a select band of stalwarts, initiates and rare booksellers. Until recently, I think there has been some truth in that, but Neil Astley is to be praised for all of his excavation, research and archival work in collecting together Tonks’ long…
  • Call for contributions – Magma 63 on the theme of ‘Conversation’

    Susannah Hart & Lisa Kelly
    1 Feb 2015 | 10:11 am
    ‘What is the use of a book’, thought Alice, ‘without pictures or conversation?’ Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland At Magma, we’ve been talking. As you know we’re having a National Conversation (about poetry) and we want you to share your poems on the theme of ‘Conversation’ with us to be published in Magma 63. Everybody talks, but what makes a good conversation?  Is it an art?  Many conversations start with a question or questioning and good conversationalists are often good listeners.  Are your conversations controversial? Some of us only know what we’re thinking as…
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    Poet Mom

  • Confession Tuesday

    21 Apr 2015 | 4:18 am
    Happy Tuesday, folks!Last week I spent a few days with Kelli Russell Agodon and Susan Rich! It did my heart good to come out to Seattle for the WordsWest Literary Series and to visit Highline Community College for the day. I love them for many reasons, but mainly because they make things happen for their community. They are two of the brightest starts in the poetry universe; I'm privileged to call them my friends. If we lived on the same coast, I think the poetry universe would explode!****It's crunch time!With the Massachusetts Poetry Festival less than two weeks away, all of my…
  • 2015 Pulitzer Prizes - Poetry

    20 Apr 2015 | 12:18 pm
    PoetryFor a distinguished volume of original verse by an American author, Ten thousand dollars ($10,000).Awarded to "Digest," by Gregory Pardlo (Four Way Books), clear-voiced poems that bring readers the news from 21st Century America, rich with thought, ideas and histories public and private.FinalistsAlso nominated as finalists in this category were: "Reel to Reel," by Alan Shapiro(University of Chicago Press), finely crafted poems with a composure that cannot conceal the troubled terrain they traverse; and "Compass Rose," by Arthur Sze (Copper Canyon Press), a collection in which the poet…
  • Confession Tuesday

    14 Apr 2015 | 9:53 am
    Howdy, folks. It's Confession Tuesday, Seattle edition!If you are in the Seattle area, come out for the WordsWest Series:“Death and Taxes: The National Poetry Month Special"with Kelli Russell Agodon & January Gill O'NeilWed., April 15, 2015, 7pm, C & P Coffee Co., 5612 California Ave. SWThis event is supported by Poets & Writers, Inc.I'm honored and thrilled to be reading with Kelli Wednesday night. I'm equally thrilled to be at Highline Community College on Thursday with Susan Rich as I talk to her classes about writing and the writing life.****Short and sweet today.
  • #AWP15

    14 Apr 2015 | 9:51 am
    I'm still recovering from AWP15. With every conference, I say it was the best one yet. There's some truth to that. Loved Minneapolis. Here's my AWP experience in photos. ,The line for Patricia Smith's Prince Purple Party was no joke. But the reading was one of a kind. Good lord, it's been so long since I've been dancing! No, Prince did not attend--so you know he missed out. It was an amazing night of poetry! So happy I was witness to this par-tay to end all par-tays. Chris Bolin and me.Aimee NezhukumatathilThe always fierce Patricia SmithJennifer Jean and me about to kick off…
  • Confession Tuesday

    7 Apr 2015 | 8:05 pm
    Maintenance!Happy Confession Tuesday! This is a pre-AWP post. Tomorrow afternoon I fly out to Minneapolis to join the madness. I've been looking forward to this trip for months! I hate leaving my family but I need to be with my tribe.After this long, hard winter, a change of scenery is needed. My wish: All of the snow in my yard will be gone when I return. It could happen.****If you're going to AWP, please vote for me! I have been nominated for Northeast Regional Council Chair, it is a board level position. It's a four-year commitment and, honestly, I haven't been this excited about…
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  • Was Hamlet Sane or Insane?

    Sara Barkat
    24 Apr 2015 | 5:00 am
    In Shakespeare’s classic tragedy of intrigue and ghostly mystery, some have asked, “Was Hamlet sane or insane?” The answer depends partly on how you define insanity and at what juncture of the play you’re making your judgments. When the play begins, Hamlet is going through a rough time, and it just gets worse with the introduction of a vengeful ghost who wants to use Hamlet to carry out his plan of retribution. At this stage of the play, there is no sensible “plot” reason for Hamlet to pretend to be insane. Yes, he has his justifications, but it is entirely…
  • Twitter Poems: Top Ten Poetic Tweets

    LW Lindquist
    23 Apr 2015 | 5:00 am
    We spend a lot of time on Twitter. (We’re Tweetspeak Poetry, after all.) In fact, we figure we read thousands of tweets every month. One of the things poetry and Twitter have in common (when done well) is an economy of words. When we see good Twitter poems, we stop and take notice. 1. A bee buzzes down the sunray her tiny wings, beating a rainbow #5lines #micropoetry — Susie (@SusieAreYouOK) April 22, 2015 2. a wet wind tears at my hair . . leaving you for another storm just like my father #tanka #5lines #tpos — Sandi Pray (@bigmax722) April 13, 2015 3. roadside seedlings hitch a ride…
  • Not Your Father’s Dictionary: WordSurge—A Word-Discovery Tool for Tomorrow

    Maureen Doallas
    22 Apr 2015 | 5:00 am
    An Interview with WordSurge® Founder Jordan Ackerman Move over Dictionary.com. Make way OneLook Dictionary Search. Say so long RhymeZone. The Beta version of WordSurge® has hit the Web. Writers and poets, songsmiths, rappers, and anyone who loves words no longer has to settle for static “look-up” experiences. As WordSurge® founder Jordan Ackerman says, word discovery and exploration promise to create random and custom interactive opportunities that will benefit both native and non-native English-language users.   Jordan, what inspired you to create WordSurge®? We were inspired to…
  • Poetic Voices: Jessica Goodfellow and Michalle Gould

    Glynn Young
    21 Apr 2015 | 2:00 am
    For the next few weeks, we’re taking a look at recent (and some republished) works by poets perhaps not as well known as some but with unique and interesting voices and deserving of a wider audience. Today we’re considering Jessica Goodfellow and Michalle Gould. Jessica Goodfellow Goodfellow’s The Insomniac’s Weather Report was first published in 2011 but reissued in 2014 by Isobar Press (in Japan). It’s her middle volume of poetry; A Pilgrim’s Guide to Chaos in the Heartland was published in 2006 and Mendeleev’s Mandela in 2015. Her poems in Weather Report center on the natural…
  • Photo Play 2: Golf & Greens

    Heather Eure
    20 Apr 2015 | 5:00 am
    In the spectrum, green fills more space visible to the human eye than most colors. When it comes to favorites, it’s second only to blue. As a prevalent color in the natural world, we invite it into our daily lives with the clothes we wear and how our living spaces are decorated. Green is a color of renewal, harmony, and relaxation. Not to forget after a long, cold winter, it’s a relief to glimpse the merciful green of spring. “Green is the prime color of the world, and that from which its loveliness arises.”  —Pedro Calderón de la Barca Thanks to everyone who participated…
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  • Cracks in the Ceiling of the Sistine Chapel

    19 Apr 2015 | 7:34 pm
    How many reach heaven dissatisfied? “It’s too clean here! “too perfect!” They cry Does even heaven have flaws to keep it unpredictable? I pray to find out I pray to be less ungrateful.
  • Jackie Robinson Day

    16 Apr 2015 | 7:37 pm
    I love Jesus though I’m no Christian I like my Jesus manly not so saintly as the Christians depict him to be turn the other cheek, sure but at what cost my favorite baseball player is Jackie Robinson the Jesus of baseball the hell he took to open the door for everybody when Jackie signed on to The Dodgers he asked: “Do you want a player without the guts to fight back?” Branch Rickey responded: “No, I want a player with guts not to fight back.” That’s Jackie. That’s Jesus. That’s what makes them saints Jesus threw the money lenders out of the…
  • When Love Becomes a Funereal Procession

    11 Apr 2015 | 9:24 pm
    This song is a ghost haunting me wherever I go no film or color or photo can torture me as much as these notes sung through these speakers I must mute but cannot cause that would be killing what we were for you live in these lyrics and I die a little every time I hear them so out of respect to what we were I accept what is alone though these words sing of two I know after such a love affair only one can remain standing and sitting here I wonder if it’s me or if it’s you.  
  • Traveling Blind

    8 Apr 2015 | 7:36 pm
    I never travel with a travel guide the Lonely Planet the Bible of travelers is not a faith I follow because everywhere I am in Asia I see other foreigners with their noses buried in its pages and I think I got here without it what’s your deal? Get your head out of the book look around and you’ll see where you want to go.
  • Making Love to Celestial Bodies

    3 Apr 2015 | 6:24 pm
    Once we put faces to the stars as constellations we grew bigger than the heavens thinking we could create patterns from chaos comes science that discovered chemical equations from H2O to the the H-bomb yet we’re still looking up at the night’s sky wondering where we belong.
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    Tips For Writing Better Poetry

  • Poetry For Everyone

    8 Apr 2015 | 6:46 am
    SyllablesSyllables pacing like P-Waves swayed in the Lithium light,strumming on Quicksilver laughter, lovingly lashing the night. Spinning semantics swirled skywards, startling  scamperingstars, as Lyssa leapt Leopard within her, wearing a tsetse flymask. Synonyms senselessly searing, sprinkled with Hydrogendreams, tasted the Ready-Meal vacuum of Neverland freedom again. Sentences pendulum swinging, struck like a tearful thud. Cirrus formations sedated.The Butterfly effect ceased.
  • Funny Poetry

    6 Dec 2013 | 8:06 am
    If you enjoy funny poetry then you will love my new comedy/poetry book called 'A Floristry of Palpitations' (Published December 10th).The book is 90 pages in length, and contains approximately 60 surreal/silly/satirical poems.Be warned though - a few of the poems are also serious!Sample Poem:- The Worst Tutor EverThere once was a tutor called Leewho thought that there only were threelines in a limerick.Please visit my website for further information:-www.georgestanworth.com
  • Some More of my Tips for Writing Better Poetry

    18 Jun 2012 | 4:36 am
    Here are some more of my writing tips and tips for writing better poetry. Some More of my Tips for Writing Better Poetry1. Attend a performance poetry night. In London the Poetry Cafe, Covent Garden has some good ones.    If you live in the home counties or south Midlands in the UK, the following websites may be of     interest. http://rrrants.com/, http://www.poetrykapow.co.uk/2. Participate in a performance poetry night3. Write a poem based on some art, a piece of music, or a dance.4. Write at different times of the day rather than at one…
  • Tips For Writing Better Poetry - Be Different

    14 Jun 2012 | 1:05 pm
    Be DifferentAlways strive to be a better poet. Never believe that you know everything, or are unable to develop your poetry any further.If you have just written what your friends, family and you consider to be your best poem yet, don't be content., keep pushing yourself further.Most poets have self-doubts, so I'm sure that even the Poet Laureates and classic poets were not satisfied with most of their works, and wanted to develop their writing further.Take risks. Experiment with language, style, form, imagery, or even layout. I once wrote a 4 line poem on a juggling ball.
  • Read a range of poetry from different writers

    22 May 2012 | 9:20 am
    We all have a favourite poet or two. My favourite contemporary poets are John Hegley, Tony Walsh and Paul Eccentric. I also enjoy reading Larkin and Blake. Each of  these poets has inspired me, and pushed my writing on in one way or another.If I just continued reading these poets though, my inspiration would probably wane, and my writing would stagnate. I therefore try to discover different writers on a regular basis. I studied English Literature at University, so I am well-versed in the works of Coleridge, Byron, Wordsworth, Keats etc. I therefore try to complement…
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    Dark Matter

  • When They Did Not Break Us

    Tony Brown
    25 Apr 2015 | 3:33 am
    Originally posted 7/29/2013; originally titled “When He Broke Us.” when they first came  they called us both resource and nuisance land and labor bank in the way ultimately good for nothing said it was high time to break us they set to it our mystery belonging brokeour fluency in stone’s tongue brokeour river dreaming brokeour river beds openedand drained themselves downto now mute bones we ended almostwhen we couldn’t speak to each other our children were taken from usthey returned much later looking more like Himand had no tongue to use with us who were we…
  • Rubble

    Tony Brown
    25 Apr 2015 | 2:29 am
    The dialogue between those two was hard to describe except to say there was a lot of noise carrying signal both intended and unintended in a bed of each of them waiting cordially but impatiently for the next opportunity to make some noise. It reminded me of how  I once was in a house with walls made of broken glass set in rough concrete so light came through from outdoors. From inside it looked like this conversation sounded: gems from a distance, trash close up. I could not leave that house soon enough, though I longed and chafed to be gone, just as I could not get away from that…
  • Profanity

    Tony Brown
    24 Apr 2015 | 4:54 pm
    in this place long ago lived people who carved nine thousand names for their god into this temple. they saw every seed they planted as a spark of green prayer that would rise  as it sprouted and grew, perfuming the eyes of heaven like sweet smoke; they could hear and see voices and vision in the earth itself back then.  you’re trampling that, tourist. don’t claim it doesn’t matter simply because those who made this place and worshipped here are gone. tell the truth about it: even if all were still thriving, you would not care because you don’t care. you don’t…
  • This Container

    Tony Brown
    24 Apr 2015 | 9:44 am
    This container full of chunks of rust which may have been tools once, artifacts of  energy and striving that have become indistinct remnants, memorials to former utility: today, open.   Emptying. Sun on its interior now; warm, still,  empty. Maybe comfort will come with time but for now, empty.
  • Advice: On Maintaining A Daily Writing Practice

    Tony Brown
    22 Apr 2015 | 7:53 pm
    Originally posted 4/17/2012. your favorite writers always tell you to writeto keep writing  your favorite writers are going to tell you to write all the time because they claim they did and you (following along in their wake like sweet little sleep deprived interns in the Hospital Of Broken Hearts) ought to damn well do the same your favorite writers are going to tell you to write every day tell you to churn thirty poems in thirty days or a novel in a month because that’s how it works when the Fire is on them that’s how they get to be favorite writers the poor slobs…
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    Psalms and Psychoses

  • Am I a Voice Among Truth Seekers, or a Noise Among the Masses?

    Jeremiah Castelo
    13 Apr 2015 | 3:38 pm
    While having a conversation with a friend about the coming economic collapse, the petrodollar, Monsanto, and the current state of the world in general, I was struck. The post Am I a Voice Among Truth Seekers, or a Noise Among the Masses? appeared first on Psalms and Psychoses.
  • The Wild Goats of the Rock – Epic Instrumental Music

    Jeremiah Castelo
    10 Apr 2015 | 9:11 am
    The post The Wild Goats of the Rock – Epic Instrumental Music appeared first on Psalms and Psychoses.
  • Photos of Intramuros

    Jeremiah Castelo
    10 Mar 2015 | 1:52 pm
    Built by the Spanish as a fortress in the 16th century and then used as a prison by the Japanese during WWII, Intramuros is almost as haunting as it is beautiful. The walls are colored with age, the floors are covered with the pressure of the thousands of pairs of feet that walked on it, both the booted and the barefooted. The post Photos of Intramuros appeared first on Psalms and Psychoses.
  • Fire Dancers of White Beach at Puerto Galera

    Jeremiah Castelo
    7 Mar 2015 | 8:02 pm
    Every night at an hour past dusk, when all that remains of the orange sky had long fallen behind the horizon, the locals of white beach gather in the sand. The post Fire Dancers of White Beach at Puerto Galera appeared first on Psalms and Psychoses.
  • Images of Manila, Philippines

    Jeremiah Castelo
    21 Feb 2015 | 7:56 pm
    The Philippine Dichotomy: A land where money is scarce but smiles are as abundant as the people that give them to you. Traffic rules are ignored but respect for the fellow human is a law that would never be broken. The post Images of Manila, Philippines appeared first on Psalms and Psychoses.
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    More than Words !

  • The Symbolism and Science of Serpent and Ouroboros !

    Adarsha Bhattarai
    21 Apr 2015 | 11:46 pm
    You might not have heard of the ancient Greek symbol called 'Ouroboros'. Bur you should because its one of the most fascinating symbol.The Ouroboros is a Greek word meaning 'tail devourer,' and is one of the oldest mystical symbols in the world. It can be perceived as enveloping itself, where the past (the tail) appears to disappear but really moves into an inner domain or reality, vanishing from view but still existing. Alchemical Symbol of OuroborosOuroboros is generally depicted as a Serpent or a Dragon biting its own tail. The first recorded history of such symbol is in Egypt at…
  • Heraclitus: The Brightest Star of Greek Philosophy

    Adarsha Bhattarai
    20 Apr 2015 | 10:23 pm
    Heraclitus was a Greek philosopher of Ephesus. He is possibly the first Greek philosopher to explain the unity in all experience. And how change is the only constant in the universe. Heraclitus is also sometime known as the Philosopher of Riddles. For many people don't understand him.Heraclitus introduced the world with the word 'Logos', which means that 'all things are one in some sense'. Even the opposites are needed for the occurrence of action. Heraclitus explained that change is the core of all things. And within the changing framework lies the unity of opposites. Heraclitus by…
  • Constipated Brain, Eddington's Arrow and the Death of Pythagoras of Samos !

    Adarsha Bhattarai
    19 Apr 2015 | 10:37 pm
    Generally we meet two types of people. First are those who have constipated brains. And the second are those who shit well. The constipated brains suffer from ignorance, intolerance, ego and 'I am right' ghost. Whereas, the shitty brain are free thinkers, artists, poets and those in the dimensions of creative communion. May I remind you, in the universe, we find various kinds of shit. And mostly even the shitty kind suffer from indigestion of thoughts and beliefs. But there are those who poop very very well. Arthur Eddington, a philosopher of Science, conceptualized the concept…
  • Anahat: Tighter Benevolence

    Adarsha Bhattarai
    18 Apr 2015 | 8:10 am
    the candles:you see one everydaywalking, sleepingeating, and being by your side,'fire'- whiter than whiteblacker than black, darker than nightlovers alike, struck struckstruck strikelightening eyesfighting flamesRISEsettle downbelow the flowing windpointing direction,facing signs- strive- strive-strivemy lover, you are my predestined signgarments, flesh, bloods, flairs,shielded spring sightstighter benevolencemy beard is my wingsand she knows, 'stones talk to me'the tree's talk to me toobut do you world??shimmering my loveglistening through time and spacenot one, but thousands oftravelers, I…
  • Splitseconds: My Playlist is My Time-Machine !!

    Adarsha Bhattarai
    17 Apr 2015 | 5:09 am
    split secondsthis ends now, 'time'stop, refrain, sleepgo deep deeper, deepest my playlist is my time-machine,tangling, twisting, tantalizingterminating the wider spectrum of birth and deathlight, colors, eyes, her eyesmetaphors, rubber cubed heartbeatsmetamorphosis, migraines dimmer lights zest flatbeds, beastsmourning, screamstighter jeansblocks in the clockssnubs mobs  stiff swerves, her sweatersjump- jumpers lumberjacks mufflers melting might sight her eyes, my playlist is my time-machine !!
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  • a GEEKDOM Tribute To A Soul Singer: R.I.P. Mr Percy Sledge

    M *7) - Daphunkeeprofessor
    16 Apr 2015 | 11:50 am
    Percy Sledge in 2012 at the Houston House of Blues.Tuesday, we've lost one of the great, architectural voices of soul music. Mr Percy Sledge passed today at the age of 74.A No. 1 hit in 1966, “When a Man Loves a Woman” was Sledge’s debut single, an almost unbearably heartfelt ballad with a resonance he never approached again. Few singers could have. Its mood set by a mournful organ and dirge-like tempo, “When a Man Loves a Woman” was for many the definitive soul ballad, a testament of blinding, all-consuming love haunted by fear and graced by overwhelming emotion.“When a Man Loves…
  • Producer's Notes: Building The Groovalottos Album Pt. 6

    M *7) - Daphunkeeprofessor
    11 Mar 2015 | 2:23 pm
    A little more flavor in the pot from EddieAn element in the novel MUMBO JUMBO, by Ishmael Reed is a virus called Jes Grew that causes white people to become obsessed with Black culture. According to the text, it's the cause of the roaring 20's and the jazz age. America, being a segregated nation at it's roots, has a curious habit of categorizing music to the extent that they segregate music from itself. Also having a cultural addiction to exploitation, musical forms can be co-opted from their originators and the history re-written. Much of American music is rooted in the African and…
  • Producer's Notes: Building The Groovalottos Album Pt 5

    M *7) - Daphunkeeprofessor
    20 Feb 2015 | 4:54 pm
    When bass players rock the drums...With any favorite dish, it's the seasonings that make the flavors of the main ingredients stand out. Seasoning and spice is that fine detail in a recipe that can make it or break it. For a funk and soul recording, the percussion tracks are the seasoning. You can change the entire feel and mood of a song based on what percussion you use and how it's played. Something as simple as a tambourine, cowbell or conga drum can become the difference between a classic hit records and a dud.In these days of electronica, percussion tracks are usually samples and…
  • Good Bye to A Gifted & Caring Educator: Dr Paul E Reisch

    M *7) - Daphunkeeprofessor
    16 Feb 2015 | 2:22 pm
    Dr Reisch from the 1986 M&A Yearbook... they misspelled his nameThere is a subtle difference between a teacher and an educator. A teacher teaches, imparts knowledge and information about how do do something. An educator does the same except what they teach you are things that can carry over to other areas and aspects of your life. An educator elevates you and your consciousness by inspiring critical thought about a given topic or the world around you in general.Such can be said about Dr Paul Reisch, a former faculty member and alum of LaGuardia High School of the Arts in New York City,…
  • A Lesson In Character for Governor Baker: Bravo Dr Scott

    M *7) - Daphunkeeprofessor
    16 Feb 2015 | 12:36 pm
    A major amount of kudos and credit goes to Dr Beverly Scott, the soon-to-be former General Manager of the MBTA in Boston. Her on-air resignation as the answer to Governor Baker's criticism was very classy, bold and necessary. This also was a very public break and response to the psychological game that gets run on people of color in leadership positions when thrown under the bus by their so-called superiors.Governor Charlie Baker pulled a very familiar move in his criticism of Dr Scott. Somehow, he looked past being "disappointed" with the Department of Public Works and their failure at snow…
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    Miklos Arany

  • Murrain

    5 Apr 2015 | 3:49 am
    Fever fraying at the slender tether Between me Earth, preying on me Like a hungry vulture eviscerating Little left of what I am, nearing zero. The bridges I’d imagined are falling Away in this burnt twilight, arcing Spans resolving into motes of dust And deep sighs of further resignation. The end is always looming, sharp And quick or dull and laborious as A gradual loss of hope and retreat Into memorial music all of shadows. There are better ways to squander Life than this, afraid to lie, to deny, To believe in, to shield oneself, only To be beaten by an inaginary sword.
  • Good I

    30 Mar 2015 | 10:49 pm
    The lone figure balanced on the horizon Like a tightrope walker, sand filling his shoes, Tide rising, knows that all is lost; surely As there is a God, there can be no escape. The past is a great wave rolling into tomorrow And stations beyond, flattening future days Like cigarette ash under a heavy heel. Faith in the negative is always justified, But today is still today, a moment before The end of days, time enough for pleasures Small even in number, but still bright sparks Against the humdrum black of sure night. Time enough to love, to be embraced, To remember the best of times, gone Or…
  • Sugar Sweet

    19 Mar 2015 | 5:20 pm
    Stop feeling sorry for yourself; Always look on the bright side; Jesus saves; things can only. I feel sorry for everyone who Hasn’t succeeded at forgetting. Life is contingent, magicless, A candle burning by an open Window beneath a field of stars. There are wolves in my heart. We’re all innately good, but It’s unreachable in a dark Well of hunger and a dark Night of fear, deep beyond Any fathomable depth, lost. I more than most could have Been so many things, done So much, but guided by decoys Find myself outside all walls In a trackless desert, alone, Understanding all,…
  • Before Dawn

    17 Mar 2015 | 8:49 am
    The restless, flickering midnight eyesLike low lamps in the dark cannot close.Falling on a wire grid, electric in the skin,Fear blazes like sirens, ear-splitting and hotAs branding knives, fighting my flight.Self- defeated lids heavy as stone restAjar for evil spirits to freely pass, takingAnd taking until a profoundly empty dawn.
  • Love From A Ghost

    15 Mar 2015 | 7:13 pm
    Don’t forgive me for leaving when I did.Remember I loved you both more thanThe whole world and everything in it.Hope is a ghost and this is nothing butA needle in the snow to inoculate myselfAgainst guilt and fear while slowly falling.Take the nothing I offer and let me haveForgetting instead of tomorrow’s regret. I had no place to go and nothing to give.
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    Poetic Hope

  • Real Charity

    24 Apr 2015 | 4:02 pm
    I had a realization today at work. I got off of the phone with someone who had done something that I felt was extremely stupid and because of how stupid I felt it was I laughed at the whole idea and I laughed at them. I even shared their epic fail with some of my coworkers who enjoyed the tale, but when I got off work I had one of those feelings that leave you knowing that you did something wrong. After I pondered on the idea for a while, I had a major realization that is contained within the text of this poem. To Love a StrangerIf I do not love enoughTo love a strangerWho is here and…
  • Friday Morning Food for Thought

    24 Apr 2015 | 6:14 am
    I hope something here can give you motivation to push forward.I now have two compilation volumes available. You can find them here http://www.amazon.com/Poets-Heart-Simple-Request-Poems/dp/1507658028 http://www.amazon.com/Poets-Heart-Love-Poems/dp/1492992933
  • What Role does Your Love Play in Your Life?

    23 Apr 2015 | 4:47 pm
    I am beginning to think that part of having a happy marriage is actually giving more than you feel you can, and keep doing that until your spouse becomes your world.  What I have seen in this process is that as you take that journey instead of losing out on things in your life you find more and more added and then when you finally do grow to the point where they are your whole world, it is a word filled with much more than you could have dreamed. You Are My WorldRead more »I now have two compilation volumes available. You can find them here…
  • Thursday Morning Insights

    23 Apr 2015 | 6:18 am
    I hope you find some drive from this little thought.I now have two compilation volumes available. You can find them here http://www.amazon.com/Poets-Heart-Simple-Request-Poems/dp/1507658028 http://www.amazon.com/Poets-Heart-Love-Poems/dp/1492992933
  • The Fuel for Growth

    22 Apr 2015 | 4:29 pm
    I have had enough testimonies in my life of the power of struggles to help you grow, there is little doubt left in my mind that most of the struggles in our lives are sent not because we did something wrong but because God wants to help us grow. The Fires of GrowthRead more »I now have two compilation volumes available. You can find them here http://www.amazon.com/Poets-Heart-Simple-Request-Poems/dp/1507658028 http://www.amazon.com/Poets-Heart-Love-Poems/dp/1492992933
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    A Blog By Rohan Bhardwaj

  • Take Charge Today

    rohan bhardwaj
    23 Apr 2015 | 1:53 pm
    We all go through the rush of adrenaline when something good is about to happen. But, when we need to take charge of things and take actions now, we often sit back and relax. Not literally though, but we all do the same thing.Super excited, we all seem, but it only lasts for some time and then we lose interest and the thrill for achieving that accomplishment. It happens to the best of us.How to overcome it? Lets find out.Read more » © copyright 2014 – All rights reserved rohanbhardwaj.com
  • A Poem On Pressure

    rohan bhardwaj
    18 Apr 2015 | 12:27 am
    It is 2015 and we all are working way too hard, stress and pressure find a way in our life. Each day, we try to be happy, but get submerged in pressure of some kind.Many times, we often account ourselves of responsibility even though we aren't much guilty. Sometimes we say yes to work, which we can't complete and then land ourselves in tough situation. From kid to adulthood, our race for completing work under pressure never ends.Let us accept pressure, still do better than now.Read more » © copyright 2014 – All rights reserved rohanbhardwaj.com
  • How To Let Go TODAY?

    rohan bhardwaj
    15 Apr 2015 | 1:30 pm
    Bad things happen to all of us and we often go deep down to find the cure, yet we fail very badly. I was in your shoes, we all were or some might be now too. It took me 1 year to let go my sadness and anger. I was rejected in love.It hurts, I know. You know what happened after she said a big NO to me. I went ahead and started writing diaries, then I took it to blog. The more I wrote, the more it hurts. I was crying from inside each day and it took me more than 1 year to collect myself.On the other hand, she was very happy as she had already forgotten me. I should have done the same. Yes, it…
  • 3 ROCKING Ways To Propose

    rohan bhardwaj
    13 Apr 2015 | 12:08 pm
    It is very hard to say straight, "I love you" to our would be spouse. Relationships are tough to maintain and easy to get rid of, though we would never want that. Starting each day of my life, I imagined many scenario's, as it gives me much clarity.There are many ways to showcase your love, but if you wish to do it with respect and expect a positive response, then you should try one of the methods below.Less tried and tested, be my guinea pigs, okay.Read more » © copyright 2014 – All rights reserved rohanbhardwaj.com
  • Your Voice Has The Potential

    rohan bhardwaj
    8 Apr 2015 | 2:07 pm
    Many times in our lives we struggle through a phase where we feel small, insignificant or less powerful. We either give up or try, but not 100 percent. I am sure, we all have been at there. I often find myself, talking. When I think about a situation, a problem, I think and often I speak up in my mind.These thoughts come into voice, or sometimes just get buried forever. We may not realize it's potential as we never put it into action.Let's find out what would happen.Read more » © copyright 2014 – All rights reserved rohanbhardwaj.com
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    Powerful Views

  • The Wooden Ledge

    Karan Gandhi
    18 Apr 2015 | 5:29 am
    I stood at the edge Of a wooden ledge, Gazing in infinity Looking for divinity! My attention drew To the mountain blue, Time swiftly flew In the scenic view! The lush green trees The enchanting breeze, Life got me to freeze That moment I seized! I don’t want to go Back to the show, I coveted the glow Those moments to grow! I wanted to stay With nature play, Away from the fray Underneath the rays! With responsibilities steep And commitments to keep, I sat in my jeep It was time to sleep! I looked up high To the transparent skies, With tears in my eyes I said good bye! I’ll surely return…
  • What Color Am I?

    Karan Gandhi
    6 Mar 2015 | 5:23 am
                  What color am I? I blinked an eye Can you notice the hue Do you have any clue?   Come close and see You must look at me Come discern my shade Look what’s portrayed.   You’re green he said No, you are red He’s blue someone shouted It’s yellow undoubted!   They grumbled they fought Their heads went hot They quarreled and teased Their opponents squeezed.   I looked with dismay They were immersed in fray Not ready to blink They just wouldn’t think!   I prayed, please halt It’s all my fault! Come close,…
  • Just look at me Smile

    Karan Gandhi
    3 Feb 2015 | 6:26 am
    The trials & tribulations The never ending inflation The tension the worry Amidst the flurry! The sickness, this disease The cough & the sneeze Where shall I flee? To set myself free! O, what shall I do? In this world untrue O, where shall I go? For life to bestow! They said, just smile Try it for a while Just say ‘Cheese’ And you’ll find all your keys! Does it work, I enquired Is it really required? I was in depression Asked irrelevant questions! But try, I must Lest life turn to rust Let’s give it a shot To untie this knot. I arose and smiled Squealed like a child I…
  • Let Life Take Over…

    Karan Gandhi
    15 Jan 2015 | 11:30 pm
    The pressures this trauma The anxiety and the drama, The fast local trains Humongous traffic in by-lanes. Where should I run To get a glimpse of the sun, Where must I flee For fresh air to breathe! At the sea shore My heart I pour, My legs you caress You speak to my stress. A tinge of white and blue Kissing the golden hue, Be it morning or night What a pretty sight! Come touch the sea It’s glory you must see, Come and surrender Feel the breeze tender. Within the wet sands In natures hands, Come, look at the grace Let nature embrace. Far from the towers The political powers, Distant from the…
  • Beautiful Blue Eyes

    Karan Gandhi
    5 Jan 2015 | 10:59 pm
    Beautiful blue eyes Looking to the skies Seeking relief I am done with grief! Masked in blue jeans Driving to lush greens Time to ponder I will not wander. Be still my soul While I am sole Blessings of the world Come to me twirled. Time to introspect Back in retrospect Thank the creation For this incarnation. In moments spare I’ll continue to stare The universe profound With miracles abound. Nothing to complain Or swear in vain Give thanks and be wise Through my blue eyes!Filed under: Photoliscious, Poet In Me Tagged: blue, eyes, Photography, poetry
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    Illusory Realm of Conceptual Poetry and Art


    13 Apr 2015 | 7:47 am
    At dusk I heard a meadowlark then saw you lurking in the dark I turned to dash and tried to flee and failed to utter one last plea With piercing eyes you mesmerized transfixed I lay there hypnotized enraptured by the spell you cast flashed images of life that passed You tasted blood and I outgrew my need to live the life I knew As I lay limp my life force waned while faint my heart the blood soon drained Blending with darkness in the night I wander without feeling light You claim your thirst did justify and lust for me was reason why You took my life to be as one then vanished like the…
  • And when will you eclipse my sun?

    12 Apr 2015 | 4:33 am
    Where are you now my misery? I know this luxury won’t last I sense that you will come for me and feel all hope is fading fast Why do you wait to torture me? And let me think life can be fine Real happiness can never be Freedom from you was never mine Why wait till I feel satisfied and feel some comfort in my life? When all feels good you then decide to strike me with despair and strife Where is the pain I will soon feel? It seems the time is overdue I know this life can not be real True happiness I never knew And when will you eclipse my sun removing love still in my heart? Reveal to me…
  • And now its time to turn the page

    8 Apr 2015 | 2:04 pm
    And now it’s time to turn the page to see things as they really are As memories I lose with age I never thought to come this far I am not what I was before but try to do the things I can for you my love who I adore I strive to be a better man I turn the page and leave behind the life I knew and wonder why Events remain burned in my mind forgotten not although I try There is much more that I must do but feel my age does hold me back It seems the love I get from you refills the life-force that I lack My pain at times can bring me down making it difficult to smile without you I would wear…
  • I hear a whisper in the breeze

    6 Apr 2015 | 10:36 am
    I hear a whisper in the breeze and think someone is calling me Fireflies glimmer round the trees but there is no one that I see I hear you but I see you not then sling my arrow in the air and then appears the one I sought In front I see you standing there My arrow hit and brought you here so now it seems you cannot fly You sadly tremble here in fear I see your pain and hear you cry I ask you then to come with me You say that there can be no way exclaiming it can never be You tell me that you cannot stay I look at you and fall in love and to my forest home we ride as softly rain falls from…
  • They stabbed a needle in my heart

    29 Mar 2015 | 1:51 pm
    Was hard to walk but still I tried I stumbled out into the street No one was there when I first died My heart was cold and had no beat Soon medical assistance came They said they felt there was no hope I was the only one to blame much sadness made it hard to cope Adrenaline they had to use They stabbed a needle in my heart I did not have much more to lose My world had fallen all apart They brought me back but were surprised and did not think I would pull through A miracle they emphasized The poison was too much for two   I still remember only parts of an event that happened several years…
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    Amazing World of Poetry

  • Fake princess - victim of social inequality

    22 Apr 2015 | 1:27 am
     Today you learned my true identity. I am a simple girl of Devon who was tormented by vicious inequality and hateful poverty, who dreamed to abandon human society ruled by divinity of money and began to live wildly in the forest. I pretended to be princess Caraboo from island Javasu because I was sick from my miserable existence. I aspired to have respect of people and recognition of my personal worth. Why do you treat people according to their social statuses? You have no right to judge me.   Because of your evil…
  • Patriotic songs and shooting

    19 Apr 2015 | 9:55 am
     Patriotic songs are on the radio. Shooting is heard outdoors. Hope of victory drinks blood of death.This work by Igor Marinovsky is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
  • Jobless girl and her hungry dog

    18 Apr 2015 | 9:53 am
     Jobless girl and her hungry dog enjoy beautiful April weather in the park.This work by Igor Marinovsky is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
  • Hopes of the female slave

    16 Apr 2015 | 2:07 am
     Almost one year ago my mistress died. But I am still a slave. Before her death she asked her husband to give me freedom.  He promised her to fulfill this wish..  His memory was very short. Now I have a plan  how to enter the world of liberty.  Superstitions of my master will be deliverers of mine. In the night  of his drunkenness  like ghost of his departed wife  enveloped in white texture I will appear before his eyes with demand to set me free..This work by Igor Marinovsky is licensed under a Creative Commons…
  • Queen of dishonesty

    15 Apr 2015 | 7:16 am
     Queen of dishonesty who arrived on the chariot of pride divided people on the better and the worse in her perverted fantasyThis work by Igor Marinovsky is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
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