Saturday, February 6, 2016

I've seen people get angry and I've heard them behind closed doors; it is damn scary!
How can they explain how it feels in their minds when they become so incredibly mad they are beyond reason, when reeling in the relentless seduction of anger is beyond all desire?
A poem of maddening anger before reason...




©Burgeoning Reason

Wondrous landfill of contemplation
That camouflages dull ruins of lost thought
And deformed orbs of hidden paradoxes,
Where nothing disturbs, nothing excites,
Nothing stimulates like wasted syllogism
Among the intricate but spoiled paradigms
And the vibrant ruins of buried syllogisms.

Mimi Wolske
All Rights Reserved

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

You Left Me Your Spartacus Kiss

Arguments about erotic love poetry can often be distorted to serve the moral or psychological ends of the readers and the authors of such poetry can be lampooned. But, not all authors of erotic and erotic love poetry write accounts of human sexual relationships in explicit language or write with the intention to arouse the reader sexually. Such poetry used to be called pornographic. This is not a pornographic poem; it is erotic. While straightforward, images from the words are to be interpreted by the reader and each reader's interpretation is personal.




©You Left Me Your Spartacus Kiss

So, isn’t it funny? I found them
at this late date... you left your words
all over me. I’d grown accustom
to them sinking letter by absurd
letter into my skin like some tattoo
I would never be able to erase.
Not as if each word whispered by you
belonged there. That wasn’t the case.
Truth is that pieces of you found
their place in my open, waiting veins;
they flowed to my heart, and were bound
until nothing real about you remains.

Mona Arizona
All Rights Reserved

(painting by Malcolm Liepke)

Sunday, January 31, 2016

Old and New

Shelley said, "I change but I cannot die." ('The Cloud', line 76). 
Deepak Chopra said, "The next step in mans evolution will be the survival of the wisest.”
David Vann said, “Even now, I still believe metamorphosis is the greatest beauty.” (Aquarium)
“As Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from uneasy dreams he found himself transformed in his bed into a gigantic insect.” Franz Kafka (The Metamorphosis)






©OLD AND NEW
All Rights Reserved

It was at the corner
of Old and New
the first time my eyes
captured his image,
the first time my heart
beat that old tattoo—
Flight or Fight—
the first time I
didn't know what to do.
His head was tilted back
in hardy laughter and
I saw his breath escape,
dance around the crowd,
seize some, and then
it gripped their souls;
his laughter stopped.
Unable to abandon
my position, I watched
his every step
leaving scars on the road
as footprints, as memories,
as warnings to those
of us left, frozen in time
between Old and New.




(painting: detail from Metamorphosis of Narcissus by Salvadore Dali)

(video: 30 seconds of The End by The Beatles)