Apr 21, 2008

she's my priestess, i'm your priest

A Pot of Tea
by Richard Kenney

Loose leaves in a metal ball
Or men in a shark cage steeping,
Ideas stain the limpid mind
Even while it’s sleeping:

Ginseng or the scent of lymph
Or consequences queasing
Into wide awareness, whence,
Like an engine seizing

Society remits a shudder
Showing it has feeling,
And the divers all have shaving cuts
And the future’s in Darjeeling—


Blind, the brain stem bumps the bars
Of the shark cage, meanwhile, feeding,
And the tea ball’s cracked, its leaves cast
To catastrophic reading:

Ideas are too dangerous.
My love adjusts an earring.
I take her in my arms again
And think of Hermann Göring,

And all liquidities in which
A stain attracts an eating,
And of my country’s changing heart,
And hell, where the blood is sleeting

----------------------
found that to be an outstanding example of poetry. rhyming seems childish to some, less sophisticated somehow, but not to me. and i think there is a painterly, soft-focus quality to his writing which is truly admirable.
also.

VERY VERY EMBARRASSING (potentially)
but i have made my first foray into writing after 6 years!!! that's a bloody long hiatus! and it felt good to write, althou i must say the product is hardly of use to anyone besides myself. still, i will press on, and this--i present--the first publication of anything i've written. i have realised that keeping everything to myself is of little use for improvement.

COMMENTS/OPINIONS PLEASE PPL!!!!! feedback is more than welcome...yes, even the NAAAAASTY stuff. thankyou!
---------------------

Clandestine Past Midnight
by Andrea Loh

Pitch black and silent…almost; I scarcely discern your
Moving shadow, hear your
Whispered nothings
Of lust, regret, forgotten things: nondescript.

Your smell, sweat, they cling to
Me like cigarette;
Slow burn. The air is furtive musk, sticky and
Enveloping.

Our breathing is cavernous— ragged
Inhalation of the selfsame tainted lifesource; I offered
Myself, and you drank, (truly, madly),
Deeply.

An agonizing preview of eternity, and still, Time
Takes its time…Your caress grows
Surreptitiously cold, dispassionate; the heat of
That moment
Extinguished; yet

still: Each hair on our
Bodies, (electric, heady), had
Ignited, now
Singed.
------------------------

p/s: partly inspired by Screaming Infidelities, Dashboard Confessional.

No comments: