Diaries
It is time to destroy my diaries. I rip the covers off and shred years of paper.
I am giving up my role of policeman of our life. No longer can I point to my words and say “you said in April of 1985.”
My words “our relationship is like a rotting corpse” now keep the [...]
Filed under: Gabrielle Daly
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peckinpah took
ben johnson
aside while
filming the
battle of
bloody porch
in the wild
bunch & sd
you looked
good in
that last
shot but it
wasn’t in
tense enough
what the
hell are you
talking abt
johnson
replied i
broke my
finger wor
king that
goddam
machine
gun i don’t
give a fuck
if you broke
yr dick
make it
look like
you are
falling in
love w/that
browning
because it’s
going to
be yr angel
of death
Filed under: poems by todd moore
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peckinpah took
ben johnson
aside while
filming the
battle of
bloody porch
in the wild
bunch & sd
you looked
good in
that last
shot but it
wasn’t in
tense enough
what the
hell are you
talking abt
johnson
replied i
broke my
finger wor
king that
goddam
machine
gun i don’t
give a fuck
if you broke
yr dick
make it
look like
you are
falling in
love w/that
browning
because it’s
going to
be yr angel
of death
Filed under: Todd Moore
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The previous Basho posting of Yosano Akiko (both poem and photograph) inspired so much interest, I thought I would feature four more poems of hers plus some biography concerning this remarkable poet who fashioned her life into art. –norbert blei
Come at last to this point
I look back on my passion
And [...]
Filed under: Yosano Akiko
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Shaving my balls | part 1
There has got to be something
Therapudic
About clipping away at your pubes.
Hacking through the vines.
Un earthing the pale
And wrinkley little man
Who talks a whole heap of
Piss.
Like Indiana jones.
I tell my family
im going to have a shower
but i take a pair of sciccors
and
a cut throat.
Half drunk
I saw away at my balls
And my [...]
Filed under: Ben Smith
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Rufus Reid 1979 | Photo: Mark Weber
A LINE OF STRINGS
A thickness of quiet pulled
the air into slow where it
begged to be filled.
A big muddy of thoughts spread
over the crowd, like the water
they were; wet collars, sweaty palms.
A low tide of moving hands
struck a line of strings,
releasing songs too heavy for corners,
to bright to hide.
The jazz [...]
Filed under: Roger Singer
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Who Remembers…Smoked fish/chubs (smoked and sold) on the ferry dock at Gills Rock? the Brookside Tea Garden; Morris Larson’s Mobil Gas Station; the Choo Choo Restaurant; Cabin Craft—the first high-end gift ship?; Bill Beckstrom’s house, shop, herb garden; Doc Farmer; the Summertime Gift Shop; the first, last, short-lived Chinese Restaurant in Egg Harbor; the original [...]
Filed under: Coop News
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Nagisa naru
Sutareshi fune ni
Mizu michite
Shiroku utsureru
Hatsu-aki no sora
Left on the beach
Full of water,
A worn out boat
Reflects the white sky
Of early autumn.
-Yosano Akiko
[from: ONE HUNDRED MORE POEMS FROM THE JAPANESE, by Kenneth Rexroth, New Directions, 1974]
Filed under: Yosano Akiko
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greatness is a smoke alarm
going off in your head
telling you
your house is burning
and there is no more
time to waste
no more tv
no more movies
no more dreams
only action
keeps the flames
from spreading
to the curtains
to the couch
to the floor
to the walls
to you
and then you’re dead
just keep moving forward
or die
it’s as simple as that.
i imagine
my foot coming [...]
Filed under: Casey Quinn
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Poetry & Jazz
Monday October 26, 2oo9
8pm
First set: Michael Vlatkovich & William Roper, trombone & tuba duets
Second set: Mark Weber — poems | Michael Vlatkovich — trombone, music director, arranger/composer, conductor | Andrew Pask– clarinet | Tom McNalley — electric guitar | Vinny Golia — woodwinds | William Roper — tuba | Harry Scorzo — [...]
Filed under: Mark Weber, News
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