Hawaii Limo Exit.
March 30, 2009 at 6:15 pm | Posted in memoirs, poetry, writing | 7 CommentsTags: Mamu, memoirs, poetry, three card, writing
If you don’t play for high stakes it’s never more than jewellery and empty scented envelopes, she says.
Every story needs a bad guy, I just wanted it most.
Oh escapes some rounded sweet pink lips,
I’ve never been on a literal red carpet before.
You don’t spend five years inside for having a big mouth
without turning learning taking a trick or two hanging up the phone
stubbing out another obvious cigarette prop.
Never mind my dear his arm around her waist
and never fear, when backlit by a spotlight moon,
and Mamu accelerates away
exquisite corpse of the sun
March 27, 2009 at 7:14 pm | Posted in poetry, writing | 11 CommentsTags: exquisite corpse, poetry, Tipota
Melt the length of a moment in focalfire containment
internal this kaleidoscope swirl rare birds
dolphinheaded mermaids on invisible wavelength
wings away and curls above, brings rain
created in random pattern on precision paths
of cranium unique, magnificent, containing uni
verse and multiverse, leaving rhythmic
beat impressions on bananable being obvious
unimaged, itself and nothing more. Urns
roll along the highway spilling dusty bones
from the past solitude, the study of the sun.
(an exquisite corpse is a form of collaboration. I did this one with Tipota.)
How not to be?
March 25, 2009 at 8:12 pm | Posted in writing | 8 CommentsTags: invisibility spell, poetry, writing
The advantage in such disguise is that every old man’s voice is an artificial construct. Ronaldhino for instance, in that sudden moment when he forgets all concern with the blustering faces and clomping of the larger boys or on the alternate letting the machine through its mysterious allegory algorythm organise the syllabubbles, this is the question.
Advertising.
March 24, 2009 at 7:01 pm | Posted in blogging | 4 CommentsTags: blogging
Do not click any ads you see on this site! They are not mine. I don’t want them there but WordPress sticks them there everytime I get any traffic on the blog. Sorry. I will have to go through the whole horrible process of self-hosting to get rid of them. What a pain in the arse. Sorry. But just don’t click them okay.
The Man Who Loathed Whispers.
March 23, 2009 at 7:07 pm | Posted in poetry, prosepoemthingy, writing | 13 CommentsTags: black, poetry, prison tattoo, tattoo poetry, writing
As he got slowly older his hearing started to go. Not surprising since he had spent so much of his life wearing headphones, sometimes to listen more closely to the pins dropping in the lock and others to block out the perpetual cacophony of other people’s lives.
It has reached the stage now that he can’t hear much at all except the moan of his voice in his throat and chest and he wonders when they will feed him again.
He hears the whisper of their approach and closes his eyes even though it is already pitch black.
Talking To Squires,
March 20, 2009 at 7:26 pm | Posted in poetry, writing | 10 CommentsTags: Paul Squires, poetry, white
The highlights reel flickering,
insert all time favourite tickling
arrange photo on the sideboard
time is the only commodity
Squires, hurry up
the something is waiting
a clean white sheet
six fathoms deep,
W H Auden reading.
March 19, 2009 at 6:14 pm | Posted in links, poetry, writing | 5 CommentsTags: poetry, poetry animations, W H Auden
(1 min 30 secs)
Another fantastic production from poetryanimations
First brought to my attention by the genius who is Tipota.
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