Monday, December 31, 2012

Saturday, December 29, 2012

Penhead Theater Presents: The Emperor Bonaparte



Super Mario Bros. World 4-2 to 5-4




Copyright © 2011 by Kurt Studenroth

I am a knight:

       the ones that people say
       go searching for adventures.












Yes, but can you dance?





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Friday, December 28, 2012

Friday's Children by Afzal Moolla


Her


I think of her,
biting her bottom lip as she whispered fare-thee-well.

I feel her,
the warmth of her embrace as we lay counting the stars.
I smell,
lightly scented roses strewn across her body.

I miss her,
desperately pouring longing into verse.

I taste her,
as lingering kisses slowly fade.

I need her,
a comforting presence dispelling the stormy clouds.

And still,

I think of her,
biting her lip as she waved her final goodbye.

Copyright © 2012 by Afzal Moolla









Thursday, December 27, 2012

A Reblogged Post: Kyrsten Bean Reads Poetry





Kyrsten Bean is one several featured artists in RAPoetics second issue. She is more special than the rest, because she submitted both poetry and image art. Also issue 2 begins with one of her photos and ends with one of her photos. That's all I am going to tell you about it. You'll have to get it for yourself to see what else is there.







Tuesday, December 25, 2012

A True Disaster-Piece





I feel you so intensely
I swear you must experience me as well

reaching through the unseen realm
I connect my name to yours


The guitar was tuned to two notes (D & G) so that one could get a droning effect and emulate eastern tones







Sunday, December 23, 2012

Guest Author: Changming Yuan


CHOPPY STICKY CHOPSTICKS


Yes, yes, yeah, we are simply too barbaric
To enjoy the delicacy of raw snails or oysters
With steel forks and knives

But we are certainly civilized enough to chop
To stick cats, dogs, snakes, frogs
Ants, rats, pupae, anything that moves
With more than one leg, and we love
To eat pig ears, cow tongues, goat penises
Shark fins, sparrow nests, chicken hearts
Duck feet, and all other living corpses inside out
With our mouths open from ear to ear
Chewing plants as noisily as we like
Sucking noodles and soup like pigs
Yeah, we are what we eat, how we eat
When, where and why we eat

What I say, pal, is this simple fact:
Chopping and sticking makes our fingers more adept
Just as chopsticks make us fitter to survive and succeed
More important, they have turned us from carnivores to herbivores
Though still more primitive than you fork users and knife wavers

Copyright © 2012 by Changming Yuan




Changming Yuan, 4-time Pushcart nominee and author of Allen Qing Yuan, edits Poetry Pacific and has poetry appearing in 609 journals/anthologies across 23 countries, including Best Canadian Poetry, BestNewPoemsOnline and Exquisite Corpse. Poetry submissions to Poetry Pacific welcome at yuans@shaw.ca.
Changming Yuan's poem "Confronting: Bird vs Sea" will be published in RAPoetics Issue 2, Paint Darkness into Day, which will be released into the Kindle store a few days before 12/21/12.
Issue 2, got tied up by the juggernaught and will be a business days after christmas before it is released for public consumption.






Friday, December 21, 2012

Friday's Children by Afzal Moola



For comrade Chris Hani

    1942 – 1993

mowed down
by hot lead
your blood flowed
into our African soil
murdered you, yes, they did
silence you, they never will
for your voice
your spirit
speaks to us still


Copyright © 2012 by Afzal Moolla






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Saturday, December 15, 2012

Penhead Theater Presents: The Emperor Bonaparte



THE GAUNTLET HAS BEEN THROWN DOWN!




Copyright © 2009 by Kurt Studenroth

I am a knight:

       the ones that people say
       go searching for adventures.





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Friday, December 14, 2012

Friday's Children by Afzal Moolla


Walking.


I move through,
the alleys of yesterday,
searching for fragmented memories.

Untasted tears,
cascade,
drowning the sighs of a hundred and one muted cries,
filling a pool full of loss.

I walk amongst,
faceless loves,
I feel a familiar blade,
tearing across wrinkling flesh,

as,

a long stifled laugh,
settles on barren ground,
it claws deep into cold soil.

I walk between,
chilled memories of bygone days,
frozen by time fossilized,

under,

a foreboding downpour,
stiletto raindrops stab
my face rips apart.

I Walk away,
from broken shards,
of a limbo lived life,
dulled by drones,
of a thousand garbled voices,

I am blinded,
by reel after reel
weeping scenes
shot in black and gray,

edited,
sliced,
roasted,

a disjointed life,
on the pyre of the years,
feeding the flames,
with coarse untasted tears.

Walking.

Copyright © 2012 by Afzal Moolla









Monday, December 10, 2012

Guest Author: Don Comfort


Hard Labor


Roll up your intellectual sleeves, I say!
The lacy wreaths 'round effete wrists
And plow a different mind today,
The rocky road the world insists;
A kinder, gentler, compulsory way
Enforced by more-than-tolerant fists.

When the soil has been prepared,
Sown with seeds of subtle art
Pregnated with a beauty rare
Do not neglect to take your part;
Spend the hard-won wealth of care
And glean the rich fields of the Heart.

Copyright © 2012 by Don Comfort




Don Comfort is the Assistant Editor and Poetry Specialist of Randomly Accessed Poetics. He said, “Everything you need to know about me can be found on page 98 of 'The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy.'”









Sunday, December 9, 2012

Guest Author: Changming Yuan



SNOW BEGINNING TO FALL OUTSIDE


While he tries to draw a mountain
With an ink-dripping brush
On a wide sheet of rice paper
It begins to snow outside
Paints the whole city with winter white
Dotting his work like a leopard, roaming
Looming along the borderline
Between the city and the season

His strokes getting blurry among falling flakes
All the trees become frozen, retreating to the horizon
Except a black bird still beating its wings
Against the mountain range in front of his eyes
Against the snowfall outside of his home

Copyright © 2012 by Changming Yuan




Changming Yuan, 4-time Pushcart nominee and author of Allen Qing Yuan, edits Poetry Pacific and has poetry appearing in 609 journals/anthologies across 23 countries, including Best Canadian Poetry, BestNewPoemsOnline and Exquisite Corpse. Poetry submissions to Poetry Pacific welcome at yuans@shaw.ca.
Changming Yuan's poem "Confronting: Bird vs Sea" will be published in RAPoetics Issue 2, Paint Darkness into Day, which will be released into the Kindle store a few days before 12/21/12.







Friday, December 7, 2012

Friday's Children by Afzal Moolla



Trappings


Flitting in,
and out,
of malls,

Scouring the aisles,
for more,

always for more,

walking,
undead,
through glittering halls.

Seeking out,

Luscious fabrics,
softest silk,
satin velvet,
crushed denim,
faux-fur,
trinkets and biscuits,
sleek gadgets,
that perfect shoe,
a must-have accessory,
cars, curtains, silver-ware,
gold time-pieces,
that stunning set of pearls,
as empty desire,
gleefully unfurls.

Piling onto,
heaving trolleys,

food,

and,

more food,

and yet more food,

to lighten the spirit,
to elevate the mood,

as countless starve,

a prime pot-roast,
of dead flesh,
we must carve.

Yet,
emptiness prevails,

as quaint notions,
of professed humility,

silently creep,
scurrying,
out the back,

while unquenchable need,
mutates, grows, pines,

it's insatiable hunger,
no longer able to feed.

The saga continues,
smiling faces,
lobotomised,

in the intoxicated haze,
with eyes shimmering,
through a toxic,
consumption-fueled,
trance-like glaze.

Trapped,
within the trappings,
of excess,

the undead,
waltz on,

oblivious,
to the torn consciences,

that have,
been so neatly,
so brutally,

shred.

Copyright © 2012 by Afzal Moolla









Tuesday, December 4, 2012

Purple Words: Party Of The Blue August Moon



Party Of The Blue August Moon


The evening of the Party was as perfectly
temperate as the atmosphere of Dreams
which one rarely notices to be sultry or frigid.

The Theme of the Party was the word, ‘Filthy’
which meant there were lots of people dressed
in their best Slum-wear, Hobo Clowns, Bums,
etcetera.

Only a few bothered to look up the word
and its Thesauric variations, but they took those
to heart and they were truly abhorrent,
despicable, loathsome, obnoxious, reprehensible,
repugnant, vile and wretched.

A person named Simon was intoning from the
Necronomicon, not your usual Party trick,
“In the Time before Time, in the Age before
the Heaven and Earth were put in their places...”
When a great cacophony of Seagulls, Dogs &
Sirens broke in from the Outside

The notions of a Hovering Snake-Curse and the weird
endless rhythm of distant Indian drums formed a bad
combination which any added element of the bizarre
went far to render the event utterly unendurable.
It didn’t help that the Alcohol was flowing freely
and the Red Lights of the ancient Wurlitzer
bathed everyone in their lurid glow.

There were 3 Punch Bowls full of Service Punch,
Charles Dickens Punch and a third unremembered Punch
as well as Wine and a home-made golden Absinthe,
so the cavorting crowd were truly lunatics tonight
under the influence of the huge Blue August Moon.

---Purple Mark, 09/01/2012






Purple Prompts:                                                                         

  1. The notions of a hovering snake-curse and the weird, endless rhythm of the distant Indian drums formed a bad combination which any added element of the bizarre went far to render utterly unendurable.” H.P. Lovecraft. ‘The Curse of Yig.’ The Horror In The Museum & Other Revisions edited by August Derlith. (Ballantine Books, 1970), Page 144.
  2. In the time before time, in the age before the heaven and the earth were put in their places,...” edited by Simon, Necronomicon. (Avon Books, 1977), Page 123.
  3. Filthy: abhorrent, contemptible, despicable, despisable, detestable, disgusting, Foul, loathsome, lousy, mean², nasty, obnoxious, odious, reprehensible, repugnant, rotten, shabby, sorry, vile, wretched.” Roget’s II: The New Thesaurus. (Berkley Books, 1988).
  4. The evening of the party was as perfectly temperate as the atmosphere of dreams, which one rarely notices to be sultry or frigid.” Thomas Ligotti. ‘The Lost Art of Twilight’ Songs Of A Dead Dreamer. (Carroll & Graf Publishers, 1989), Page 142.










Saturday, December 1, 2012

Penhead Theater Presents: The Emperor Bonaparte



Your name's Kurt? Oh yeah - TO THE DEATH!




Copyright © 2009 by Kurt Studenroth

I am a knight:

       the ones that people say
       go searching for adventures.





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