That old sore which festers on Myspace |
POETRYBLOGRANKINGS AND THE PRIVILEGED POSITION Why I did this. (Dropped out of PoetryBlogRankings.com) First: ...
Posted by on Mon, 31 Dec 2007 23:45:00 GMT |
WORMS |
every time it rains the worms move onto the sidewalk. they look like long freight trainsseen from a distance, and then they dry out, never making it off the sidewalk. soon the ants arrive and within a...
Posted by on Wed, 12 Sep 2007 17:15:00 GMT |
TO ALL TRUE SEERS OF THE IMAGINATION |
To all true seers of the imaginationranking means nothing. It is merely the wayin which you have chosen to feed ego. That hasits place, and obviously people want to get read,but is it a gauge of talen...
Posted by on Sat, 08 Sep 2007 20:31:00 GMT |
BLOOD OF THE LIVING DREAM |
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We are not just born of flesh. We are born of spirit as well. It is perhaps the oddest of answers as to the nature of things. The answer which the materialists state is much mor...
Posted by on Thu, 30 Aug 2007 13:51:00 GMT |
EXILE IN MEDIOCRITY and other writings |
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ILE IN MEDIOCRITY Category: Writing and Poetry
Sin Q said "Death to the fascist insect which preys upon the people," and he was right. It is as if my entire thinking life was spent i...
Posted by on Mon, 23 Jul 2007 08:57:00 GMT |
SCRAMBLED BRAINS |
SOME of the poetry considered best is
at best scrambled like word bunches
tossed together in butter and mixed
with an egg beater, then flopped out
of the pan onto a paper plate so that
the aroma just&...
Posted by on Sun, 20 May 2007 22:35:00 GMT |
THE UNDERGROUND IS MY REVOLUTION |
THE UNDERGROUND IS A SPACE VAST ENOUGHTO HOUSE ALL HUMANITYNO ONE CAN OWN ITNO ONE CAN MANIPULATE ITIT HAS THE FEEL OF A COFFEE HOUSEOR A GARRET STUDIO FULL OF ARTIT SPINS LIKE A PLATTER ON A TURNTABL...
Posted by on Sun, 18 Mar 2007 00:58:00 GMT |
THE SWORDS OF THE WINDOW |
The swords of the window are spreading their light. An icy blue beach caught timeless where water-skis and thundering jets have stopped to leave their wake. I reach for socks, then a sweater, because ...
Posted by on Sun, 28 Jan 2007 09:57:00 GMT |
EXILE IN MEDIOCRITY |
Sin Q said "Death to the fascist insect which preys upon the people," and he was right. It is as if my entire thinking life was spent in this smouldering underground fire which cannot be put out other...
Posted by on Mon, 25 Dec 2006 23:07:00 GMT |
The Raining Fires And Dead Pigs Of The Priest |
there is a clown, a really ugly clown, inside the
priest. beneath his crucifix lies the heart of a
pornstar. he maketh prayers with one mouth
and suckling noises with the other, the one painted
rouge...
Posted by on Sun, 29 Oct 2006 18:15:00 GMT |
