death
-
The Science of Poetry I Einstein’s incendiary ideas words arranged in an idea of order mathematical sequencing it is the intellectual alchemy of the dead watchmaker thoughts boiled in time reduced in a nanosecond of synaptic flash to the ashen essence of humanity the pure black symmetry of silhouette in shadow tarot cards tossed into
-
Fool “Centuries ago it had an ‘e’ at the end.” -H. F. I speak to you with out the faith offered by the pope, But “the illusion of faith offered by drugs, rock music, and contemporary poetry.” I speak to you with a mouth full of broken vows and blood, but the voice of the
-
Drunken Muse Date Raped: Gives Birth To Out Of Wedlock Poem Tonight the poems come Like the girls who fall over with their legs in the air. Sometimes the poems come quick as a school boy on prom night Drunk on sweet wine, another sordid stain Added to a rented tux. It’s like that when
-
All I Want is to Write The Poem All I want is to write the poem that makes the mute girl sing. All I want is to write the poem that frightens cherub faced girls. All I want is to write the poem that gets me excommunicated by the pope and I ain’t even catholic.
-
The Texas School Book Depository the sixth floor museum at Dealey Plaza. I have never visited this place but I have driven by it hundreds or possibly thousands of times. I simply do not understand the attraction. If I were visiting Washington D. C. I would not want to visit Ford’s theatre.Tourist are just weird. There
-
A Triptych of Poems for a Dead Poet Dead Baby Blue for Robert Trammell Beware, Life is not a dream even when dead birds lying drunkenly in the gutter suddenly straighten Verona feathers stand on broken feet of poems vomit a gut full of idealistic maggots eyes swimming against the … bone, (alabaster, ivory, eggshell,
-
TRAMP: White Rabbit Season “One pill makes you largerAnd one pill makes you smallAnd the ones that mother gives youDon’t do anything at allGo ask AliceWhen she’s ten feet tall” -Jefferson Airplane The bullet from the old man’s 22 caliber semiautomatic pistol must have clipped its spine and its little rabbit brain was terribly confused
-
Now That Is A Real Gentle Man It is trying to rain again and I am trying to catch the bus to see you. I ride the metal beast drowning in the cacophonous roar of vapid Conversationalist ignoring the hostile little faces of the tribe As we all ride from Westside lead poisoned slums to the
-
“We who are about to die salute you.” for Jack Johnson, Joe Lewis and Mohammad Ali The title of this anti-poem, about death and taxes was originally ‘Killing Two Birds with One Stone’. Then it was shortened to ‘Two Birds with One Stone’. That wasn’t blowing my skirt up so I changed it to
-
If You Smell Something Stankin’… If You Smell Something Stankin’… it’s me I’m the shit to the devil with your politically correct false modesty noble savage hand writing my woman’s writing her novel on the computer I can’t write on the cursed machine I don’t trust the binary code of machine language I want more
Joey Cloudy online 