Tribe.net. Local Connections Rainbow_Watcher http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/e01350cf-2653-4128-82fc-831d3a66b305 2009-01-22T08:54:29Z 2009-01-22T08:54:29Z

<div>My eBook, The World behind it, Chaos, a collection of poetry, photographs, and digital art, comes out within the next month on why vandalism? (http://www.whyvandalism.com). The book will be free to download. <br/> <br/>I have the electronic equivalent of "galley proofs" for reviewers, in Adobe Acrobat (PDF) format. I'm looking for writers willing to review it--on blogs, for literary journals, in electronic or print, whatever. <br/> <br/>If you are interested, contact me at Michael_Dickel@mac.com, and I will send you the (2.3 mb) PDF file. Note: the actual eBook will be online in Flash Projector format. The PDF if for review purposes--reviewers are asked to download the actual eBook before commenting on technical formatting, display, or navigation aspects of the eBook. <br/> <br/>I hope to hear from some in this tribe who would be interested in writing a review!</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Rainbow_Watcher 2009-01-22T08:54:29Z RatherDashingParty http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/d40d716b-0b1e-4955-ba0d-791287f38dfc 2008-10-02T08:54:37Z 2008-10-02T08:54:37Z

<div>What is there <br/>To be said about <br/>Hooliganism that's not <br/>Been said before? <br/>That's not been acted <br/>By thought and deed? <br/>Prolly in an alley <br/>With whores galore? <br/>Please bear with me, <br/>And thanks for not bleeding on the carpet <br/>Wile I rant and rave <br/>Muppet <br/> <br/>Well us hooligans are <br/>Sharks <br/>Always skylark <br/>Walking green mile <br/>With a crocodile smile <br/>Won't tealeaf your teeth <br/>Stroking grandmother cats <br/>Always dwelling lord lux <br/>Phat gangsters contually <br/>On the pillage <br/>In the flux <br/>Whering white not black hat <br/>The 40:4 from Eccles to Camberwick green <br/>Via the roivour and the libary <br/>Chavvy, you know what I mean? <br/>Always active <br/>Nevor roll on for anyone <br/> <br/>I get by with my DLA <br/>Vandals for life <br/>Enuff trouble <br/>And strike <br/> <br/>I got to stop this poem <br/>$because my Mum's fat cat <br/>is sat <br/>On my black jacket <br/>She hasn't got a hope <br/>Of being a guardian to Heaven <br/>Cos I'm a freestyling hooligan bloke <br/>And there enougth rope to hang me <br/>For I am too ambidexotous <br/>Bonafie <br/>And jolly <br/>I'm not shark <br/>Honestly <br/>Stand on me <br/>Free as Eire <br/> <br/>I'm about as dangerous <br/>As a pooble in a car park.</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

RatherDashingParty 2008-10-02T08:54:37Z frankslice http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/2a4e038d-0b60-4dc8-b300-89cac23fb5f5 2008-09-29T12:59:48Z 2007-04-25T13:04:44Z

<div>Sorry for sounding like a dummy, but these questions needs answering; <br/> <br/>1- What is beat poetry and how is it different to any other poetry? <br/> <br/>2- I think that will do for now but be prepared for further questioning... <br/> <br/> <br/>Frank</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 7 replies </div>

frankslice 2007-04-25T13:04:44Z petunia http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/8f36ce20-07db-4dbd-bc51-55bb5f2b5ec1 2008-01-23T22:03:56Z 2008-01-23T22:03:56Z

<div>Dear Friends, <br/>This is a VERY funny and poignant film director Blue Kraning made about Hunter S. Thompson. You can follow this link to where the trailer is posted up on Tribe: <br/> <br/> <br/> http://people.tribe.net/ef16dbc2-...e40916ff6d <br/> <br/>or you can follow the other links to his website www.gonzopatriots.com to see the trailer and buy the film. <br/> <br/>I went ahead and copied the text from the tribe page below so you get a better idea of the work. <br/> <br/>Please support the spirit of independence in which this film was made AND BUY THIS FILM !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <br/> <br/>Much Love To All, <br/>Lisa Ferguson (aka Petunia Maple Cake) <br/> <br/> <br/>New Hunter S. Thompson Documentary <br/>This is the trailer for the fun-loving but poignant film that is a tribute to Gonzo journalist, Hunter S. Thompson, and a document of how his legacy continues to live on in the hearts and minds of his fans. Blasted!!! follows the many "Gonzo Patriots" across America that volunteered their personally owned artillery to fulfill the good doctor's last wish to have his ashes fired from a cannon. Before Johnny Depp became involved with the ceremony, and paid over 2 million dollars for a professional fireworks company to blast his friend's ashes from a 200 foot tall 'Gonzo fist,' an essay contest was held by the Aspen Daily News (at the request of Hunter's family) to see who would be available to provide the service of firing his ashes. Over 50 private cannon owners applied and though these letters were published in Harper's magazine, these brave men and women, who had come forward to fulfill the dying wish of their hero...were eventually forgotten. <br/> <br/>DVD's for this film can be purchased at www.gonzopatriots.com <br/> <br/>Blue Kraning, Los Angeles based documentary director and Emmy Award winning writer, has just released the DVD of his film, Blasted, The Gonzo Patriots of Hunter S. Thompson, which recently premiered at the Starz Denver International Film Festival and the Rotterdam International Film Festival. <br/> <br/>Three years in the making, this film is a tribute to a great journalist and renowned physician. Kraning says the film, “is intended for any fan of Hunter S. Thompson or just anyone who likes to see large stuffed animals blown to bits by a homemade Bowling Ball Cannon fired by a man in a purple polyester suit, or see transgender Civil War re-enactors blast their aptly named mountain howitzer...’Lucrecia,’ while reciting Hunter’s wisdom. I made this film entirely as a one-man-band, in the tradition of Gonzo individuality and artistic freedom, so I will be distributing the film entirely by myself by selling the film off my website at www.gonzopatriots.com” <br/> <br/>"Hunter S. Thompson embodied the American ideals of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Blue Kraning's Blasted!!! is a twisted, anarchic, fun, and funny tribute to Hunter, those ideals, and Americans who don't merely mouth the Declaration of Independence, but live it." - Michael Simmons, The Huffington Post <br/> <br/>“These are not the famous actors, politicians or even journalists. These are Hunter's readers who are “his people” in the purest sense, an army of thoughtful citizens who are inspired by Hunter's work and who do a fine job of carrying on his legacy.” –Anita Thompson, wife of the late author, Hunter S. Thompson <br/>Posted by</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

petunia 2008-01-23T22:03:56Z Rainbow_Watcher http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/f1fc0a6d-eab0-414c-a395-f9746651a673 2007-12-06T08:48:58Z 2007-12-06T08:48:58Z

<div>I have a poem, six photos, and the cover photo published in the Winter 2007 issue of Abramelin: The Journal of Poetry and Magick (http://www.abramelin.net/).</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Rainbow_Watcher 2007-12-06T08:48:58Z Bridget http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/ca0a1a6b-4fe2-4ed4-af06-f389f15dce7f 2007-11-30T05:53:26Z 2007-11-30T05:53:26Z

<div>I want to let you in on a GREAT show happening this Sunday <br/>in SF. <br/> <br/>THE IMPONDERABLES featuring Sam Flot <br/>celebrating the 50th Anniversary of Kerouac's On The Road. <br/> <br/>Accompanying Sam Flot will be Jeff Miller and Phil Ferlino of <br/>New Monsoon, and Tim Carbone of Railroad Earth. <br/> <br/>8:30 or 9 showtime <br/> <br/>The Connecticut Yankee <br/>100 Connecticut St <br/>San Francisco <br/></div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Bridget 2007-11-30T05:53:26Z Rainbow_Watcher http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/1934d0a7-7a59-442c-b5da-dda7f2a3aef7 2007-04-01T18:36:38Z 2007-04-01T18:36:38Z

<div>http://people.tribe.net/rainbow_watcher/blog/4f973813-37fe-4e09-bff6-870b0d4567fd <br/> <br/>Israel Images – SEO Series #2&amp;lt;/a> <br/> <br/>Israel Kamakawiwoole sings from the speakers here in Jerusalem, his Hawai’an poetry, <br/>love poems, free love poems to my ears, weaving through Israel. It’s Israel, a new breed, <br/>multi-cultural historical Israel, who could make a map of Israel with Israel Kamakawiwoole, <br/>with Israel news no song, no poem most of the time, no love poem for those who cry out, <br/>america call I infidel Israel Jihad. Now renounced, terror they war why do they war oh <br/>America call I infidel. Israel. Jihad. And the other side, the Israel Palestine side, the Israel travel <br/>map to questions so complex that from Beirut to Jerusalem, Iran to Israel, Syria to Israel <br/> <br/>what is Israel travel? A love poem for Israel a love poem for Palestine an Israel image, so many <br/>Israel images, Israel maps torn asunder and taped back together, the Jerusalem Bible singing to <br/>Iz, Israel Kamakawiwoole, singing his Hawai’an poetry, his love poetry, his mystic music into <br/>the tapestry while I wonder on my Israel tour, in this Israel weather, who in Israel power state united <br/>can be state or states of disillusion meant in the Jerusalem hotel for Israel sex, God and liberty <br/>for all? I’ve got the Jerusalem vibration, the Israel tour, the Palestinian Israel dance of thundering <br/> <br/>rhetoric and bombs and rockets and it all leads to Israel war, Eichmann in Jerusalem, a confusion <br/>of fever and doubtful conclusions amidst corruption sealed into the history of Israel one more time. <br/> <br/>http://images.tribe.net/tribe/upload/photo/434/e87/434e87cd-2971-410e-b940-4b53292a4b6c</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Rainbow_Watcher 2007-04-01T18:36:38Z deborahpaulino http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/e09f1d08-edaa-4d3a-b4d5-c4fba1ec44d0 2007-03-24T21:49:19Z 2007-03-24T21:49:19Z

<div>Gigslist - ShowBiz News, jobs, auditions, tips, resumes and resources. <br/> <br/>OoooooooooooooooooO <br/>Listings are from Gigslist.org Main Board from the past 7 Days. <br/>Ooooooo <br/> <br/>Greenbelt, MD - Crew and Auditions, April 9-10 FreeJobs <br/>OutOftheBlackBox Theatre Company (O2B2) will hold auditions for "Volpone," a new adaptation by Bill Jones of the play by Ben Jonson http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=696 <br/> <br/>Arts Resources Wanted for Industry Directory <br/>Submit your arts site, group, tribe, mailing list, publication to the Arts Job Bible for free and Free membership to Gigslist.org and free listing. http://www.gigslist.org <br/> <br/> <br/>Touring - Guitar Tech for the Wallflowers Paid Jobs <br/>Seeking touring Guitar Tech for the Wallflowers. <br/>http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=700 <br/> <br/>The Arts Job Bible 831 places to find jobs, casting calls, crew, talent, funding, networking, and industry contacts in Acting, Music, Music Industry, Theatre, Backstage, Film, TV, and Video. Regularly updated with new listings. Only $6.95 at http://www.gigslist.org <br/> <br/>Beverly Hills, CA - Administrative Assistant Paid Jobs <br/>Music/Special Events Management Agency (3-4 person office) seeking a Full-Time Administrative Assistant http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=699 <br/> <br/>Gigslist Reel Idol - Reel Submissions Wanted <br/>Register a Free Account to Submit your Reel and Vote on other Reels Click here… http://www.gigslist.org/user.php?op=register&amp;module=NewUser <br/> <br/>Rock music needed for upcoming film FreeJobs http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=698 <br/> <br/>Entertainment Contract Library <br/>Know what is in a contract ahead of time so you know what you are signing. Digital files that you can use again and again, save thousands on lawyers fees. 100% Money Back Guarantee. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=Sections&amp;req=viewarticle&amp;artid=3&amp;page=1 <br/> <br/>SF Bay Area - Event Photographers Needed Paid Jobs <br/>Event photography firm looking for freelance photographers to work during May and June at graduations. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=697 <br/> <br/>San Francisco CA - Storyboard Artist Paid Jobs <br/>Moviehead Pictures is hiring a Storyboard Artist Needed For Romantic Thriller, http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=695 <br/> <br/>Los Angeles CA - Carpenters Paid Jobs <br/>Looking for day player carpenters with tools and experience pay is $200 per day. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=694 <br/> <br/>Hollywood, CA - Receptionist/Vault Librarian Paid Jobs <br/>PlasterCITY Digital seeking a friendly energetic individual to answer phones and manage our tape library. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=693 <br/> <br/>Aliso Viejo, CA - Stunt Coordinator/Stuntman Paid Jobs <br/>We are looking for a stunt coordinator/stuntman for an upcoming short film/trailer production. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=692 <br/> <br/>New York - Casting PSA Paid Jobs <br/>Looking to cast two roles, one of a Doctor and one of a patient who will be in his underwear being examined on a New York city street. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=691 <br/> <br/> <br/>New York City - Casting Web/Interactive Paid Jobs <br/>SEEKING ACTORS FOR a KOREAN/JAPANESE WEB-DRAMA. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=690 <br/> <br/>Chicago, IL - Feature Film Cast and Crew Call Paid Jobs <br/>Film company seeking cast and crew for indy film. Seeking all ages, genders and ethnicity's. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=689 <br/> <br/>Lakewood NJ - Female Variety Dancer Performer Paid Jobs <br/>woman, under 30, who can tap dance and/or perform a specialty number such as juggling, balloon twisting, magic, hula hoops, etc. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=688 <br/> <br/>Anywhere - Game Animators Paid Jobs <br/>Mocap Latte, a motion capture studio, is looking for freelance Max and Maya animators. for upcoming game and film work. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=687 <br/> <br/>Washington DC - Supervising Editor, Impact of War Paid Jobs <br/>National Public Radio The Supervising Editor provides editorial and production guidance to Bureau Chief and NPR member station staff <br/>http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=686 <br/> <br/>Washington DC - Broadcast/Recording Technician Paid Jobs <br/>National Public Radio has several immediate openings for Broadcast/Recording Technicians. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=685 <br/> <br/>4/7 New Jersey - Pitch Session at Fairleigh Dickinson Unversity Events <br/>Seating Limited!! Pitch to Oscar Winner Larry Meistrich (Sling Blade, You Can Count on Me, Belly) and execs from the newly formed NEHST Creations. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=684 <br/> <br/>Philippines - Asian Stallions / Collaboration /Support Classifieds <br/>We are Indiefilmaker in the Philippines who will collaborate/support with projects who has budgets ranging from $35,000.00 to $600,000. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=683 <br/> <br/>Culver City, CA - Models for music video. Paid Jobs <br/>We need fabulous babes for a rap video next Tuesday all day in Culver City with possible shoots also Weds night, Thursday night. <br/>Note: Members only listing, Gigslist.org membership is free. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=682 <br/> <br/>Santa Monica, CA - Part Time Receptionist Paid Jobs <br/>Small commercial post-production facility in Santa Monica looking to fill facility receptionist/concierge position. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=681 <br/> <br/> <br/>San Francisco - Casting Short Film - Multiple Roles Paid Jobs <br/>Graduate Film Directors seeking actors for their next project. Duration: 6 Hours spread over 3 days, starts April 5 - Non-Union artist contracts http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=680 <br/> <br/>Baltimore/ Washington - Casting Menopause The Musical Paid Jobs <br/>Equity Principle and understudy positions Seeking: Actresses who can sing and move well. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=679 <br/> <br/>Los Angeles - Casting for Daily Show Paid Jobs <br/>Established production company casting for female lead for a unique and witty daily show. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=678 <br/> <br/>New York City - Casting for Korean / Japanese Web Drama Paid Jobs <br/>Casting qactors for Korean / Japanese Web Drama . Duration: 13 days (Not Everyday) , starts March 25th. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=677 <br/> <br/>Sonoma CA - Location Scout Paid Jobs <br/>Need location scouting for outdoor dance music video and dance art piece. Need about 5-6 locations in Northern CA. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=676 <br/> <br/>New Jersey - Part Time Photographer Paid Jobs <br/>In this position, you must be friendly and have desire to work weekends. A car, internet and email are a must!! http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=675 <br/> <br/>Atlanta GA - Art Director/Senior Designer Paid Jobs <br/>Seeking Art Director/Senior Designer, award-winning design and animation studio, high-end 2D / 3D design for television and advertising. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=674 <br/> <br/>New York - Administrative Employee Paid Jobs <br/>New York Film Academy seeking an Administrative Employee whose main function will be establishing and maintaining contact with student candidates. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=673 <br/> <br/>Seattle WA - AV Tech Paid Jobs <br/>National event staffing agency is looking for a basic Trade Show AV Tech http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=672 <br/> <br/>Manhattan NY - Freelance 3D Artist/Compositors Paid Jobs <br/>Interviewing the following:3D Artists –Must know XSI, Maya and 3D Studio Max. Compositors - Must know Shake, Fusion and After Effects. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=671 <br/> <br/> <br/>LA, Miami, NYC - TV Crew Paid Jobs <br/>New weekly national TV Magazine in Hebrew seeks local crews in multiple cities for 1-2 days of work per week for ongoing work starting in May. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=670 <br/> <br/>Nor Cal - MARCH 16,17,18,31 &amp; 4/1 Female Model Jobs Paid Jobs <br/>Affinity Models has Female Model Jobs in Northern California http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=669 <br/> <br/>Seeks position in the entertainment production sector Resumes <br/>Objective:Secure a position in Entertainment Productionwhere I can utilize my professional skills to help bring creative projects to fruition. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=668 <br/> <br/>San Francisco, CA - Auditions/Short Narratives FreeJobs <br/>Don't miss this amazing opportunity to audition for upwards of 20 short films - all LEADING ROLES. One easy on-camera casting session. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=667 <br/> <br/>Palo Alto, CA - Video Editor/HTML Paid Jobs <br/>FriendFinder, Inc. seeking motivated individual with extensive experience in digital video editing and file preparation for web delivery. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=666 <br/> <br/>San Francisco, CA - Get Paid To Talk About Books Paid Jobs <br/>We have found that people are interested what other people have to say about books; especially as it relates to you. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=665 <br/> <br/>Telecommute - Motion Graphics Designer/Animator Paid Jobs <br/>Motion Graphics Designer: 2D or 3D AnimatorSan Jose, CA Portland, OR Seattle, WA http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=664 <br/> <br/>New Jersey - Directors, Musical Directors, and Choreographers Paid Jobs <br/>The Theater Company at DeBaun Auditorium, located on the campus of Stevens Institute of Technology in Hoboken, New Jersey, is seeking http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=663 <br/> <br/>Thursday, March 15, 2007 Read full article: 'New Jersey - Directors, Musical Directors, and Choreographers' <br/> <br/>New York, NY - Guitarists who Sing Paid Jobs <br/>The New York Kids Club, with four Manhattan locations, is seeking Guitarists who Sing to perform during classes and class transitions. <br/>http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=662 <br/> <br/>NYC - Female Dancers Paid Jobs <br/>NYC's Dance Makers, Inc., non profit Dance Company seeking dancers of all ethnicities for upcoming performances at Theatre Three http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=661 <br/> <br/> <br/>Sarasota, FL - Intern Pianist Paid Jobs <br/>Florida Studio Theatre, a professional Equity regional theatre, is seeking an intern pianist for the Theatre’s active Children’s program http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=660 <br/> <br/>Los Angeles CA - On Camera Assistant Paid Jobs <br/>Prestigious On Camera division of major commercial agency seeks an assistant to three agents. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=659 <br/> <br/>Chicago IL - New Media coordinator Paid Jobs <br/>Candidate would have extensive experience working with band websites, marketing, fan clubs, myspace, etc. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=658 <br/> <br/>Search is on for Happy Little Vegemites News <br/>Kraft closer to identifying original Happy Little Vegemites after national call for the children who appeared in the iconic 1950s advertisement. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=657 <br/> <br/>Los Angeles CA - Actors for independent film Paid Jobs <br/>The independent low-budget thriller Next To Die is shooting in June and July of this year. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=656 <br/> <br/>Nor Cal - Receptionist Paid Jobs <br/>America's Premiere acting and modeling academy, John Robert Powers San Ramon is seeking an energetic and professional receptionist. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=655 <br/> <br/>Boyton Beach, FL - Light Board Op, Flyman, Deck Electrician, Stagehand Paid Jobs <br/>New Vista Theatre Company seeking to fill out its crew for the final production in its premiere season. 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Note: Members Only Listing - Gigslist.org membership is free http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=651 <br/> <br/> <br/>James Miller: Delays, Delays at REDCAT, Los Angeles, March 20th Events <br/>James Miller Man and machine carry out a techno pas de deux performing delightfully inventive "short stories" for trombone and digital signal processor. http://www.gigslist.org/index.php?name=News&amp;file=article&amp;sid=650 <br/> <br/>SF Bay Area - Radio Reporters and Producers Needed Paid Jobs <br/>Self contained magazine features reporting would be required - the series of 8-10 episodes would have a theme to link them. 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Go to http://www.giglist.org and click Affiliate at the bottom of the page. <br/> <br/>OoooooooooooooooooO <br/> <br/>About Gigslist.org <br/> <br/>FREE MEMBERSHIP: <br/>Members can also post their web sites and myspace pages in the Production Directory and direct links to their demos and reels . Gigslist.org membership is free please click: http://www.gigslist.org/user.php?op=register&amp;module=NewUser <br/> <br/>HOW TO POST TO THIS LIST – Don’t worry, It’s also Free. <br/>1) Go to http://www.gigslist.org <br/>2) Login or Sign Up for a free membership. <br/>3) Click POST <br/>4) Click MAIN BOARD <br/> <br/>How to upgrade your post for top listing and solo eblast out. <br/>Once in your Gigslist.org account click Upgrade Account in the Main Menu. <br/> <br/>OoooooooooooooooooO <br/> <br/>http://www.gigslist.org <br/> <br/>OoooooooooooooooooO <br/> <br/>Myspace URL <br/>http://www.myspace.com/gigslistartsjobs <br/> <br/>Myspace Blog URL <br/>http://blog.myspace.com/gigslistartsjobs <br/> <br/> <br/>Yahoogroup URL <br/>http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Gigslist/ <br/> <br/>Tribe URL <br/>http://gigslist.tribe.net/ <br/> <br/>OoooooooooooooooooO</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

deborahpaulino 2007-03-24T21:49:19Z whyvandalism http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/394f0697-831e-4c4b-9059-58b3f588c29a 2007-03-24T15:54:08Z 2007-03-24T15:54:08Z

<div>always accepting submissions <br/>why vandalism? is an online arts journal currently accepting submissions from visual artists and writers of poetry, fiction, and gonzo. We also publish original art/film reviews and essays. <br/> <br/>www.whyvandalism.com/ </div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

whyvandalism 2007-03-24T15:54:08Z whyvandalism http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/ead1b4f6-2371-48a0-b6fc-71c347c2a415 2007-03-24T15:52:41Z 2007-01-19T19:14:51Z

<div>February 2007 <br/> <br/>why vandalism? is a brand new online arts journal <br/>currently accepting submissions from visual artists <br/>and writers of poetry, fiction, and gonzo. We also publish original art/film reviews and essays. <br/> <br/>Writing <br/>We do have a fondness for new, experimental writing as well as thoughtful work in traditional modes. <br/> <br/>We strive to publish only notable and very interesting work. Beware. <br/> <br/>http://whyvandalism.kiwibeak.com/</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 2 replies </div>

whyvandalism 2007-01-19T19:14:51Z Yolanda http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/0d54997d-32c3-4338-a975-efe88c403b6e 2007-02-06T10:00:33Z 2006-10-02T05:29:40Z

<div>The Grand Opening Of <br/>Our New Location Was <br/>September 27, 2006</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 4 replies </div>

Yolanda 2006-10-02T05:29:40Z Yolanda http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/3008c341-fa80-4ded-be16-47f9cdfa34fa 2006-10-02T05:30:27Z 2006-10-02T05:30:27Z

<div>http://www.thebeatmuseum.org/grandopening.html</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Yolanda 2006-10-02T05:30:27Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/a5e97d57-e06b-4e77-96f0-9a246016afd3 2006-09-10T06:15:40Z 2006-09-03T09:36:28Z

<div>I read Whitman <br/>on the toilet <br/>during my morning <br/>shit and think, <br/>clearly one act <br/>of the two, <br/>clearly, is <br/>the most poetic <br/> <br/>one speaks of <br/>my country, of <br/>wars and its <br/>fortunes, of <br/>flesh-paper'd <br/>books in infinite <br/>volumes on the <br/>indefinable sort <br/>of personal <br/>triumph, and of <br/>this it speaks <br/>so clearly <br/> <br/>clearly it is <br/>music and it is <br/>tactile and <br/>tracing from the <br/>depths yawning <br/>hushed beauties <br/>sprouting wings <br/>with clear <br/>piercing cries <br/> <br/>clearly from <br/>the seat of <br/>bold bodied <br/>consciousness <br/>I think, clearly, <br/>I spend too <br/>much time on <br/>this toilet <br/> <br/>Whitman is <br/>drowning in the <br/>bowl of man <br/>and with a <br/>swift nod of <br/>appreciation I <br/>wipe the excess <br/>poetry from my <br/>ass, so I can <br/>shit clearly</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 3 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-09-03T09:36:28Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/d8964a52-8cc6-4524-ad02-098ff5ee8c7b 2006-08-29T05:22:43Z 2006-08-26T05:10:56Z

<div>Your son, my father, wanted a picture of me to put beside your bed in case some spark of recognition might come to you, so this is what you get, a picture of me as I am. <br/> <br/>wow, how long have <br/>I been here, how <br/>long have I been <br/>curled up in this <br/>ball watching meat <br/>drip from my bones <br/>and slither silver <br/>liquid anguine in <br/>ever-tightening <br/>concentric circles <br/>around my blue <br/>deflating head? <br/> <br/>I remember the <br/>skull from which <br/>the flowers of <br/>flesh grew and <br/>covered the <br/>ground so soft <br/> <br/>I begin to remember <br/>the smell of a <br/>dream I had in <br/>your strange and <br/>large empty bed <br/> <br/>my dreams seemed <br/>borrowed from the <br/>apartment itself, <br/>from the building <br/>that watches us <br/>twitch in our sleep <br/>and cry out names <br/>of people we've <br/>never met and I saw <br/>it all from every <br/>moment it leans <br/>against itself in <br/>the summer air and <br/>sighs from the <br/>foundation rocking <br/>us like the unborn <br/>bound in its gut <br/> <br/>I walk the <br/>sidewalks you hung <br/>over your wrists <br/> <br/>I sit in the dark <br/>of your basement <br/>where small animals <br/>came to die alone <br/> <br/>a mother of bricks, <br/>of AC fluid and the <br/>scolding of roaches <br/>who told us that one <br/>day we would be <br/>princes just as they <br/>are and maybe in our <br/>dreams we believe it, <br/>that we could crawl <br/>on bold black legs <br/>and eat away the <br/>insides of this <br/>world until it was <br/>just a shell for us <br/>to sleep in, just <br/>like this, like those <br/>of us who peer <br/>through mortar like <br/>barely open eyelids <br/> <br/>I could stir through <br/>the night until it <br/>was one tepid pool <br/>of sweaty sheets <br/> <br/>I could grit my <br/>teeth and kick away <br/>the lightness of <br/>your touch, but <br/>there's something so <br/>soft I didn't see it <br/> <br/>these are not my <br/>dreams, the footsteps <br/>in a slow pour <br/>through the ceilings <br/>and floors, the <br/>ineffable hum of <br/>electric things piled <br/>up in dark corners <br/>of organs leftover <br/>from the 1920's or <br/>or 30's or whenever <br/>she was a child, a <br/>brick tossed through <br/>the sky, a brick that <br/>has chosen now to <br/>land and crumble <br/> <br/>maybe some phantom <br/>of youth creaks up <br/>your stairs at night <br/>and knocks on one <br/>of your many doors <br/> <br/>maybe I'll howl upon <br/>your roof for every <br/>moon you saved for <br/>later until they <br/>built up so much <br/>you couldn't see <br/>past the gray-white <br/> <br/>they call it <br/>Alzheimer's, but I <br/>think you just <br/>forgot what it's <br/>like to cry for the <br/>continuity of life's <br/>many absurdities <br/>and now you can't <br/>even cry for the way <br/>the inhabitants of <br/>our dreams scurry <br/>about in their <br/>little compartments <br/>as if they were just <br/>one and not a <br/>multitude of dramas <br/>buzzing away in <br/>little glass boxes <br/> <br/>at least cry for <br/>me dreaming of <br/>myself through your <br/>vacant window eyes, <br/> <br/>and tell me why it <br/>is I am sleeping <br/>inside your dreams, <br/>remembering lives <br/>you've forgotten</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

beausoleil 2006-08-26T05:10:56Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/bd30cb38-1330-4f81-85e0-d1e351b907b8 2006-08-26T05:08:11Z 2006-08-22T04:54:01Z

<div>today when i was walking <br/>i happened to look behind me-- <br/>(you know that feeling you get <br/>when you’re being followed... <br/>not the one where it is the cops <br/>and not the one where it is your annoying kid brother, <br/>but the feeling in-between) <br/>and not surprisingly it was my old friend Death <br/>i had to do a double-take <br/>(partly because i was looking right into the sun <br/>and could not make out a distinct face <br/>and partly because i could’ve sworn <br/>that Death was eating a blue Otter Pop <br/>and he said that we were out of blue) <br/>so i purposefully slowed down <br/>but kept walking as if i didn’t see him <br/>(though he was pretty obvious about it-- <br/>the whole “leaving destruction in his wake” thing, <br/>not to mention the Converse that squeaked and squished <br/>like he’d been running through the sprinklers again) <br/>and when i reached the corner, <br/>i stopped even though the signal said “Walk” <br/>and i waited <br/>and waited, <br/>eager at first, anticipating <br/>(like at a surprise birthday party <br/>when someone says “She’s here! She just pulled up!”) <br/>and then sort of impatiently but still excited <br/>(crouched under the table and wondering <br/>‘How long does it take to get out of the fucking car?’) <br/>and then losing interest in the game altogether <br/>so i turn to face Death as i say, “What took you so long?” <br/>(because i’ve been ready and no one likes to be stood up) <br/>only my friend isn’t there, <br/>having found someone much more interesting to play with <br/>(he’s one of those people who prefers the chase <br/>or he likes to be in control <br/>or he’s a typical guy <br/>or one of those other lines to explain <br/>why someone isn’t there for you when you need them)</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

kalleco 2006-08-22T04:54:01Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/2aad5ff0-f551-4880-9f3f-d4802f677289 2006-08-20T04:39:42Z 2006-08-20T04:39:42Z

<div>i don’t know why you are hanging around here <br/>pretending that we are somehow connected <br/>to each other or to some idea that somehow <br/>still feels real to you (if not, me) <br/>i have had enough of the playground <br/>and the playing house <br/>i am old enough to drink wine without suspicion <br/>and it doesn’t make sense for the bottles <br/>to sit on the shelf collecting dust <br/>while i wait for you to come home <br/>there once was a life that wanted to start <br/>and i am happy to let it go <br/>because you had some idea of how it could be better <br/>without me in it (or perhaps, you) <br/>yet you linger here waiting for me <br/>to pick up the memories of an imaginary past <br/>and reminisce with you about all of it <br/>without lying or crying or dying <br/>and i don’t know why it matters to you <br/>to be here now <br/>when i have already stopped playing the game <br/>when i have already grown up <br/>and forgotten you (or really, me)</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

kalleco 2006-08-20T04:39:42Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/a80b5f76-a116-4052-aedd-5065d6ada955 2006-08-11T03:07:11Z 2006-08-11T03:07:11Z

<div>papa sun <br/>in a papasan <br/>in a way <br/>milky and warm <br/>synapses fire <br/>from denim-clad hips <br/>and I slip <br/>headlong, hurried <br/>through spinning skies <br/>smooth silver crafts <br/>clamor up the spine <br/>in space <br/>only fear is <br/>tangible <br/>cold and real <br/>the crash of <br/>satellites <br/>teeth grind <br/>the gears of <br/>a black beauty <br/>screaming <br/>solar flares <br/>casting spells <br/>in nervous arcs <br/>like tiny hairs <br/>trembling <br/>and the hushed things <br/>eclipsed by bodies burning <br/>perforate my muscles <br/>tearing through <br/>stars howling <br/>from the heart <br/>out here <br/>I feel alive <br/>and afraid <br/>because she is alive <br/>and afraid <br/>my black beauty <br/>afraid to feel <br/>as she does <br/>enjoying every <br/>moment of it <br/>because this is truth <br/>this fear <br/>this is the <br/>tingling vision <br/>of self <br/>cast into the other <br/>this is the <br/>final frontier <br/>and I am <br/>comforted <br/>knowing at least <br/>I can hear <br/>myself scream</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-08-11T03:07:11Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/30b38cb6-28bf-4670-af19-f32232351c0c 2006-08-04T19:27:30Z 2006-08-04T19:27:30Z

<div>no one doesn't look insane walking up a mountain <br/> <br/>arms swing into wild gestures, eyes squint and disappear in the mad mist <br/> <br/>add rain and a vagina and madness grows pearly white canines <br/> <br/>me, I always look crazy, always walking up the back of a great sighing priest <br/> <br/>before I take a smoke break to drink 2, 4, no, 8! cups of coffee <br/> <br/>and I write about how crazy you all look <br/> <br/>and I write about how crazy it must feel to be all you crazy fools <br/> <br/>add a little creamer and I'll write as if I'm already there <br/> <br/>I'll catch eyes with the wise old dog face of something this isn't <br/> <br/>I'll rip the sky to shreds and free the whales to their fall <br/> <br/>I'll unbutton my lip and weave a story of our common thread in destruction <br/> <br/>I'll tape this to a pipebomb and plant it somewhere downtown <br/> <br/>ka-bloom, baby, ka-bloom <br/> <br/>with exploding hearts we'll stop to smell the hot licking petals of unhesitated flowering <br/> <br/>we'll comment on how nice of a day it is for a stroll through gardens of burning desire <br/> <br/>we'll celebrate cancer and the births of our children in the same breath <br/> <br/>until Buddha or the feverpigs of our minds sneeze it all away <br/> <br/>I drink too much coffee and can't stop pissing all over these pages <br/> <br/>I smoke too much and I swear the smoke is a pen <br/> <br/>narrative circulates in our lungs and pushes its buzz <br/> <br/>first person is a chill killer, second person is a shotgun in the mouth, third person is nearly anonymous <br/> <br/>what? are you alright? have you pricked yourself on a point of view? <br/> <br/>keep telling your stories until you disappear without a trace <br/> <br/>don't worry about becoming one of THEM (gasp! one of THEM?!?) <br/> <br/>even a lonely jerk like Bukowski knew the importance of being good to his fellow man <br/> <br/>gather your storms, see him through the eyes of swirling hurricanes and sunlit garbage <br/> <br/>strike like lightning the sweet meat of his being <br/> <br/>embrace his devils and details and boast his angels as he boasts <br/> <br/>sing the lyrics of his shy banter and crown him with burning brush <br/> <br/>don't forget that he is an infant, a corpse, and a man stuck in the middle <br/> <br/>don't forget that he is Christ, that he is mud and dandelions before the city <br/> <br/>that he is the father and son of the eschaton <br/> <br/>that he is the son of the sea, fists of sand, a face that knows its salt <br/> <br/>walk the stone paths of his castles and sit in the room that his love built long ago <br/> <br/>even as it collapses in bitter rains and floods you in soiled miseries <br/> <br/>there are many darks of night but only one night <br/> <br/>he knows this, his bones rattling the truth to its many harmonies <br/> <br/>he knows the bottom of his heart from which he climbs <br/> <br/>he is a dark, you is a dark, I is a dark, I is you is he is she is one long night of many stars <br/> <br/>we shine so mad dangerous wild deranged from the punched out holes of black <br/> <br/>how could I not be amused, not be one to walk with you like flesh peeling from a burn? <br/> <br/>how could I not drink 2, 4, 8, no, 10! cups of coffee and write every step of the ascent? <br/> <br/>I'm here to say I'll see you there, I mean, when I get there, that is</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-08-04T19:27:30Z http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/8663ce4c-8d9f-4128-ba67-926e5c441f68 2006-08-04T18:33:44Z 2006-08-04T07:59:34Z

<div>Here I stay, <br/>Back and forth I flay, <br/>How many cheeseburgers did I eat today? <br/>Six, seven, eight? <br/>Nine, ten, eleven? <br/>Among the plastic cartons and french fries I play <br/>How will I pay? <br/>When I exit this vicous cheeseburger algorithm? <br/>All is not well <br/>Elvis checked out an eternity ago <br/>Where will I stay <br/>After this Hell <br/>This fast food apocalypse <br/>Of the soul? <br/>In a dumpster I'd say <br/>Out the back <br/>With the rats <br/>Of this Godforesaken <br/>Cheeseburger motel</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 2 replies </div>

2006-08-04T07:59:34Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/343ee4f3-31f1-4b1c-8ed1-cab2c23f8198 2006-08-04T07:38:43Z 2006-08-03T23:47:23Z

<div>so I live on a mountain now <br/>where I do mountain things <br/>like walk up and down the mountain <br/>and try not to slip on rocks <br/>when I'm walking downhill <br/>down the mountain, that is <br/> <br/>so I thought I was clever <br/>doing such clever things <br/>like when I am very, very clever <br/>and I feel the gravel skid <br/>and I go tumbling down <br/>down the mountain, that is</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 2 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-08-03T23:47:23Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/51b29b5a-6728-4a9c-ad1b-1c9c8024e3c5 2006-08-02T00:07:00Z 2006-07-31T19:32:25Z

<div>Thunderously I <br/>blundered a riddle <br/>on the rise and <br/>fed my voice to the <br/>eyes of a coyote in <br/>bloom and doom <br/>dancing upon the <br/>dusty lap of dusk's <br/>long-legged crawl <br/>to arms, until my <br/>words returned like <br/>lizards running <br/>through the rain, <br/>through the sagging <br/>grass, through the <br/>vow of the Silents, <br/>deep, sonorous, <br/>bruising in blue <br/>rings, grown in <br/>manure where truth <br/>sings and peace <br/>dances wet and clean. <br/> <br/>I tend my beasts <br/>tending to hear only <br/>the howling of <br/>history, but if man <br/>is a meditation, it <br/>will forever remain <br/>a mystery why some <br/>winds lie still in <br/>the lowest valley no <br/>matter the moon or <br/>moan of ancient <br/>lusts as mountains <br/>thrust towards the <br/>clear blue skies of <br/>release and the seas <br/>sigh to carry a sound <br/>so painfully brief. <br/> <br/>What calls loudest <br/>caused the shrouds <br/>and shadows, proud <br/>and primitive, pale <br/>in the dark of <br/>eclipsing mist, <br/>one holy word after <br/>another, smothered <br/>by the next but <br/>wanting to break <br/>free, to escape <br/>the sentence, each <br/>word a poet <br/>exposing a prayer, <br/>a kiss, an <br/>abandonment of this <br/>desperate heart and <br/>Hell's great hunger. <br/> <br/>Tension grows <br/>impatiently waiting <br/>to stalk the head <br/>of its flowering <br/>in a wake of cold <br/>sweat swimming <br/>towards the fall, <br/>but like the waxing <br/>moon melted and <br/>frozen in its <br/>reflections and the <br/>tides dreaming, <br/>drawing foaming <br/>smiles in the sand, <br/>I remain sinking <br/>into myself, into <br/>the open hands of my <br/>grandfather's clock. <br/> <br/>But wait, the wise <br/>and wordless one is <br/>waking, beneath the <br/>slithering of my <br/>subconscious, <br/>stirring beneath the <br/>worms and words of <br/>dark, damp holes, <br/>no body so holy in <br/>the dirt, but this, <br/>this silent rush of <br/>lava lain on the <br/>heart, having molded <br/>the arteries and <br/>given my blood its <br/>heat and art, devours <br/>the island of man, <br/>rock by rock by head <br/>by head, bleeding <br/>the eternal quiet <br/>of slit-eyed gods. <br/> <br/>Mindless purity pulls <br/>on vibrating strings <br/>and unravels the <br/>fibrous thing of a <br/>noose of a brain in <br/>motion waves pushing <br/>forth only a breath, <br/>none of the rest, <br/>stupid and pure, <br/>lured by a moment <br/>in the bare sea, <br/>naked in the dark, <br/>on the dark, dusty <br/>road, spelling <br/>nothings with <br/>sparklers in the abyss <br/>of its smoky whisps <br/>curling and unfurling <br/>the path within. <br/> <br/>Oh, the beauty of a <br/>hawk who brings the <br/>rains to start again, <br/>and whether or not <br/>the feathers will rot <br/>and shine death's <br/>black and blue hues, <br/>I step back and I do <br/>nothing for the <br/>hustle of whores, <br/>the thoughts <br/>clamoring for empires <br/>in neon fires first <br/>frozen in the sacred <br/>empty texts of <br/>illusion's interior, <br/>confusion's crackle. <br/> <br/>Celebrating the fool, <br/>open heart and ears <br/>allowing the sound <br/>that sings wind- <br/>blown thieves to <br/>steal everything but <br/>the feel, I brought <br/>back just one false <br/>phrase, only the joke <br/>of all days and the <br/>tinge of all nights, <br/>the question of <br/>queerest introspection <br/>in slow stations of <br/>revelatory vile revile, <br/>posed as thus: am I <br/>this? am... I... this?</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 3 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-07-31T19:32:25Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/f4ced730-2274-49a5-bbfb-2a00e5b4e679 2006-08-01T18:44:05Z 2006-08-01T18:44:05Z

<div>small fingers crack concrete <br/>that's how i felt back then <br/>5 minutes ago, that is <br/>until glances rubbed raw <br/>on the gritgrain underside <br/>of pink blossom howl <br/> <br/>seems so strangely familiar <br/>like skidmarks in <br/>a lovers' panties <br/>your sudden frenzy to <br/>comfort my disgust <br/>to soothe my mind <br/>with clean white cotton <br/> <br/>the neverenough will ooze <br/>like it did from my lips <br/>when it was your turn <br/>and you just sighed <br/>and my cracks sealed <br/>with sleep nonothingnever <br/> <br/>in this city the cries <br/>scratch at us beneath <br/>the sidewalks and we step <br/>over the place between <br/>to spare the backs of mothers <br/>written about only in letters <br/> <br/>well, i have a letter for you <br/>it's bloody fists and little <br/>teeth of cement flying up <br/>through this hot stinging <br/>gravity of getting to the <br/>bottom of you and blistering <br/> <br/>it's slipping through the <br/>gunky rusty pipes of your eyes <br/>pulling the drain <br/>watching you spill all <br/>of your stupid little guts <br/> <br/>it's the desperate fingers of <br/>angels running hot up and <br/>down your body sticky saline <br/>slithering through knots and <br/>the ties that bind you to the <br/>mast of your sinking feeling <br/> <br/>this is my letter, darling <br/>gagging growing in disgust <br/>swinging through itself <br/>appearing naked through <br/>windows of jet black ink <br/> <br/>can you smell the beast <br/>banging at the bars of his <br/>cage? do you think it'll <br/>simply fade away into the <br/>ambience of this dance of the <br/>jackhammers sort of night? <br/> <br/>flush if you must, but <br/>it still floats around the <br/>black bowl of your eyes <br/>clogging up the passages <br/>of my letter, of children <br/>to the silent call of graves <br/> <br/>trust me <br/>trust me <br/>trust me <br/>trust me <br/>TRUST ME <br/> <br/>i only want you to <br/>trust me, if for nothing <br/>else but to smash you <br/>to pieces and meet you <br/>again in the rubble</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-08-01T18:44:05Z http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/29ed8f59-e2ff-4050-944f-0352902c5d31 2006-07-11T01:15:57Z 2006-06-28T11:57:23Z

<div>Alexander The Large in Wonderland, English beat poetry <br/>"You don't need to be a motorist to join The RAC," the brown eyed deep dish plastic name badge, Veronica Smith, pretty and petite in her indigo pleated skirt and banker type uniform, freckly brunette tells me. I want to take advantage of her and the coupon in the local paper. Free rail travel for all new members. Our hands are all over each other; and I somehow finish up in the kitchen secreted in a cupboard, a jibber aboard. And they are hectors who enter to pester by trying to insist with too polite coughs that I exist in some undefined space within the maze-like vortex of their cupboards and really don't belong among their packed lunch in this distorted reality. Their biscuits are so nice to munch on though! My last memory on waking is of a horde of cakes and chocolate flakes and this irate guy on my case, outside of my cupboard, giving it the Mister "We're not too pleased that thieves are joining the Royal Automobile Club and stashing themselves, like train huggers, in our cupboard and eating our luxuries". And I'm just trying to stuff as much as I can in my face because by now I've sussed this must be a dream and that soon I'm fated to awake. <br/> <br/>Sussed - understood <br/>Jibber - train hopper <br/>Hector - rhyming slang, ticket inspector</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 4 replies </div>

2006-06-28T11:57:23Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/506e16a2-2947-4c49-a550-0d019172987e 2006-06-28T11:55:45Z 2006-06-24T18:45:05Z

<div>you are becoming a story i will start someday <br/>with words like “once i knew this guy...” <br/>or “i had this friend who...” <br/>or “i used to know someone like that...” <br/>not so much a story, i guess, as an amusing anecdote <br/>that i can tell over drinks <br/>with whoever decides to take your place</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

kalleco 2006-06-24T18:45:05Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/06f215bd-fdaa-4aaa-9b83-63e2c76dd6f2 2006-06-28T11:50:58Z 2006-04-09T01:27:05Z

<div>i am your vampire <br/>but you won’t invite me in <br/>don’t you remember how this works? <br/>i provide the passion, the intensity, <br/>the dark, and the depths <br/>you have the life and the blood, <br/>the days of brilliant sun <br/>you know the rules <br/>and you know what i need <br/>but i can’t come in <br/>if you don’t let me <br/> <br/>don’t get me wrong... <br/>i’m not the needy one <br/>you are the one who needs someone <br/>to scorn or hate or disregard <br/>i justify you <br/>i make you better <br/>just by existing <br/>at least i make you better than me <br/> <br/>but i am the strong one <br/>i am forever <br/>in my endless soulless nighttimes <br/>i am unburdened and free <br/>ageless, guiltless, lifeless <br/>with the world at my feet <br/>every door open to me <br/>well, except for yours</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

kalleco 2006-04-09T01:27:05Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/84baa9e5-0da2-4387-bc60-da67f2a1a1ce 2006-06-14T00:25:03Z 2006-05-07T22:52:35Z

<div>i can’t understand <br/>why you have time <br/>for writing about yellow aliens <br/>or sketching naked girls draped in draperies <br/>or going to farewell parties for people you just met <br/>time for tivo and myspace and xbox <br/>time for mass email forwards about president bush <br/>(yes, he is stupid--at least when it comes to things like <br/>being the president, and thinking, and speaking, <br/>but you don’t have to fill up my inbox <br/>with details of his mental misadventures) <br/>time for secondhand thrift shops where you find $3.00 shoes <br/>or movie groups and book clubs <br/>or drinks after work with an ex-co-worker <br/>time for a spanish class to brush up on your skills <br/>or an aerobics class to lose those last few pounds <br/>or a workshop on science experiments you might use with your class <br/>time for trying new recipes <br/>or a weekend in tahoe <br/>or a day in the city just walking around <br/> <br/>because for me to understand <br/>why you have time for all these things <br/>means i understand why you fill up every second of every day <br/>with every possible person and experience and sensation <br/>and still have nothing left for me</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

kalleco 2006-05-07T22:52:35Z confetta http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/c5d7318e-61aa-4347-8a16-74578e2d01af 2006-05-22T00:29:17Z 2006-05-22T00:29:17Z

<div> <br/>Cleveland Dreams is a new tribe that <br/>includes the art, history, stories, poetry, <br/>visual poetry and writings of the <br/>Cleveland underground poetry scene <br/>of the late 60's. <br/> <br/>tribes.tribe.net/clevelanddreams <br/> <br/>Cleveland Dreams is a Tribute to <br/>the Cleveland Poets Including; <br/> <br/>• d.a. Levy <br/>• Russell Atkins <br/>• Kent Taylor <br/>• Russell Salamon <br/>• Tom Kryss <br/>• Jau Billera <br/>• RJS <br/>• Geoffrey Cook <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>"in the days unborn <br/>you will find my brothers <br/>ARMED with words you havent <br/>even dreamed of. <br/>Cleveland <br/>you will move <br/>or be plowed over— <br/>eaten by vultures <br/>like a corpse <br/>digested <br/>&amp; slowly <br/>change … " <br/> <br/>—d.a. levy, from "letter to cleveland" <br/> <br/>Cleveland Dreams <br/>tribes.tribe.net/clevelanddreams</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

confetta 2006-05-22T00:29:17Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/dbd7b793-4379-4d76-9311-bd2c296def58 2006-04-15T06:32:51Z 2006-04-15T06:32:51Z

<div>that dog is an <br/>island and his <br/>shadows chew <br/>with mouths open <br/>and little bits <br/>of iris falling <br/>from the slobbery <br/>gnashing teeth <br/>of black hunger <br/>stretched across a <br/>bare patch of dirt <br/> <br/>luxury trains of <br/>the great <br/>forgotten country <br/>loop in and out <br/>of ears perked <br/>like electric <br/>antennae for <br/>distant satellites <br/>of quiet towns in <br/>the night sky <br/>undulating and <br/>sinking under all <br/>rising stars <br/> <br/>what's the point? <br/> <br/>really. <br/> <br/>what's innocence <br/>when to unite <br/>the head with the <br/>tail you have to <br/>get used to the <br/>taste of shit <br/>and slither through <br/>darkness dragging <br/>the old tin cans <br/>from failed marriages <br/>annulled by raw <br/>knees and the last <br/>kiss of departure? <br/> <br/>Abraham Lincoln <br/>farts rainbows <br/>and fucks like <br/>a watermelon <br/>tangled up in <br/>the vines of <br/>history rolling <br/>along in chills <br/>and fruit all <br/>springing from <br/>the spine of <br/>the sequined <br/>non sequitur <br/> <br/>I really <br/>don't know <br/>anymore, <br/>or care <br/> <br/>it's all so <br/>easy, so <br/>easy to feel <br/>free with the <br/>sun in my <br/>eyes and <br/>forgetfulness <br/>in my anamnesis <br/>growing up <br/>like costume <br/>shops on the <br/>boulevard of <br/>squeaky trumpets <br/>and rattling bones <br/> <br/>panting, pacing, <br/>Fernando went <br/>hogwild on a <br/>crystal bowling <br/>ball and pens <br/>fell to paper, <br/>then further down <br/>between the lines <br/>like hitting that <br/>perfect vein and <br/>watching honeysuckle <br/>bloom and slip <br/>through stained <br/>glass fingers <br/> <br/>God bless America <br/> <br/>yeah, with a <br/>big rubber dick <br/> <br/>I have everything <br/>I need in jigsaw <br/>jazz and that joke <br/>you play with <br/>scissors and glue <br/>made from the lame <br/>horse you never <br/>brought out of the <br/>stable even as it <br/>burned pink and blue <br/>from roof to hoof <br/> <br/>drums swell and <br/>crack at the <br/>surface for hearts <br/>beating through <br/>chests as the <br/>beginning and <br/>end of the tunnel <br/>wrap around and <br/>become the same <br/>scaly cloaca you <br/>sucked from when <br/>your eyes closed <br/>and dangled from <br/>kite strings <br/> <br/>fuck, man <br/> <br/>no glue can <br/>hold me <br/> <br/>the shadows of my <br/>memories swirl <br/>around an open <br/>mouth gnawing on <br/>the bones that <br/>hold them together</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-04-15T06:32:51Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/e0c04e28-da76-4980-b0ec-34583640540a 2006-04-15T01:49:13Z 2006-04-15T01:49:13Z

<div>I used to be more thoughtful <br/>literally <br/>used to do more thinking <br/>about life and everything and nothing <br/>and just now I caught myself thinking <br/>well, at the end of it, <br/>and i said, I've got to focus <br/>CONCENTRATE <br/>GET BACK TO WORK <br/>which is how I knew I'd been thinking <br/>because at the time <br/>I didn't know it was happening <br/>and I thought it's funny how my thoughts <br/>or at least the thinking of them <br/>has become something to avoid.</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

kalleco 2006-04-15T01:49:13Z Od http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/f006d020-3a84-4cc9-aed3-abfbeaa1980a 2006-04-09T16:17:49Z 2006-04-09T16:17:49Z

<div>. <br/> <br/> <br/>A Chance at the Maze <br/> <br/>This way <br/>Or that, with <br/>No going <br/>Back. <br/> <br/>The past dumps us off at <br/>This present moment, which <br/>Conceals every possible <br/>Future. <br/> <br/>We think we choose, <br/>With glittering visions <br/>In mind, when all <br/>We really do <br/> <br/>Is take one step <br/>In any direction <br/>And the rest <br/>Follows <br/> <br/> <br/>.</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Od 2006-04-09T16:17:49Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/35badeac-5721-42ed-8344-36e6a5eb93fa 2006-04-06T04:47:50Z 2006-04-04T18:24:38Z

<div>if you go a <br/>week without <br/>showering, <br/>changing clothes, <br/>and looking in <br/>a mirror, you <br/>might begin to <br/>feel invisible <br/> <br/>you might feel <br/>like a ghost <br/>passing through <br/>someone else's <br/>machine or like <br/>a virus in a <br/>body you will <br/>never understand <br/> <br/>now I know why <br/>old black men <br/>with rope belts <br/>talk to <br/>themselves on <br/>the street, <br/>shouting their <br/>dirtiest words <br/>through their <br/>twisted faces <br/> <br/>there's nothing <br/>to hide if there's <br/>nothing to see <br/> <br/>all we really <br/>fear to lose <br/>is the favor <br/>of strangers <br/>when all <br/>else we value <br/>is eternal <br/>and always <br/>within reach <br/> <br/>I'm done with <br/>flowery language <br/> <br/>it's a mirror, <br/>a convex wall <br/>of eyes that <br/>can't see me <br/>talking to <br/>myself on the <br/>street with a <br/>golden rope <br/>belt and a <br/>shopping cart <br/>full of neon <br/>monologues <br/> <br/>you can <br/>only see <br/>what's <br/>looking back <br/>at you <br/> <br/>with everyone <br/>staring at <br/>themselves <br/>so hard, do <br/>you think <br/>anyone actually <br/>sees you? <br/> <br/>get stoned on <br/>cheap pot and <br/>wander around <br/>the city <br/> <br/>you can go <br/>naked, tell <br/>secrets, rob <br/>banks in <br/>unseen alleys <br/> <br/>no one will <br/>see your <br/>desperation <br/>to be seen <br/> <br/>you are a ghost <br/>passing through <br/>their machine, <br/>a haunting wind <br/>coming in through <br/>the window on the <br/>other side of the <br/>house, a cold <br/>draft lost in <br/>familiar circulation <br/> <br/>maybe that's why <br/>I feel like my <br/>trips to faraway <br/>places happened <br/>to someone else <br/> <br/>I wash myself <br/>away in the <br/>leaking air <br/>conditioner <br/>shower of <br/>strange faces <br/>and I course <br/>through downtown <br/>veins like an <br/>unseen purity <br/> <br/>when there are <br/>no clouds in <br/>the sky, no one <br/>looks directly <br/>at the sun, <br/>though it lights <br/>up the world <br/> <br/>if art is what <br/>you can get <br/>away with, my <br/>art is the <br/>shamanic cloak <br/>of anonymity <br/> <br/>and right now <br/>I walk the <br/>streets of your <br/>memories and <br/>sing to myself, <br/>unheard, unseen, <br/>unobstructed</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 2 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-04-04T18:24:38Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/2b2eb0f0-38bf-4afe-a4a5-dfb142b76526 2006-04-06T04:46:28Z 2006-04-05T02:53:04Z

<div>i can stay with you <br/>and clean up the messes <br/>or just gloss over them <br/>with air freshener and <br/>lavender-scented words <br/>to keep you happy <br/> <br/>or i can keep my words <br/>away from you altogether <br/>locked away <br/>like an unpredictable dog <br/>who tends to bite when <br/>you expected a lick and <br/>a wet-nosed nuzzle <br/>maybe you should have gotten <br/>the cocker spaniel <br/>or a soft pillow <br/> <br/>i can be something other than <br/>sad gloomy depressed <br/>introspective introverted <br/>challenging argumentative <br/>angry hopeless frustrated <br/>picky petty fickle flirty <br/>insecure worried frightened giddy <br/>high-maintenance low-energy <br/>pessimistic negative questioning <br/>passionate extreme ambitious <br/>all or nothing me <br/>if it is what you need <br/>i’m sure i can be <br/>as monotonous and complacent, <br/>as happy as you <br/> <br/>i can do anything you want <br/>because i love you <br/>and love makes all things possible <br/>or so you say <br/>just remember: <br/>this is what it costs <br/>this poem is the receipt</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

kalleco 2006-04-05T02:53:04Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/ecf523c0-440f-4b0e-b8e2-28230ea85873 2006-04-04T19:08:06Z 2006-04-02T08:16:36Z

<div>haha, you laugh, <br/>but who’s the fool now? <br/>me with my rotten picnic basket full of fruit <br/>(i might need that mango, but the kumquat <br/>is admittedly just for show), <br/>plastic cutlery -- for what? you eat the fruit with your hands! <br/>and proposals just waiting for your rejection <br/>(but you’ll consider it, right? no? at least look thoughtfully solemn <br/>while you ruin the luncheon i’ve carefully planned <br/>not to mention, my life, which has not been planned, or at least not carefully lived) <br/>OR you? <br/>looks like the joke is on you, my friend <br/>he who laughs last (and all that other nonsense...)</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

kalleco 2006-04-02T08:16:36Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/3d975bae-698b-4293-808e-fc56cb70cd6d 2006-04-02T07:57:05Z 2006-04-02T07:57:05Z

<div>(this is an OLD one, but i spent a week at home and was reminded of it. the spacing's all off here on tribe, but i think the meaning's still pretty much the same.) <br/>----------------------------------- <br/> I thought I heard your voice outside just now <br/> or inside, upstairs maybe in some room I don’t go in <br/> like my brother’s room because his world is on his floor <br/> and I don’t want to step on something and break it <br/> because I might be held responsible for that kind of thing <br/> and I’m not ready for that <br/> or my parents’ room which is breakable in a different way <br/> with the almost white just vacuumed carpet <br/> and I don’t want to leave a footprint because they will <br/> know I was in their world and I’ve tried so hard to <br/> not be a part of it <br/> or the guest room with the outdated computer and my mom’s <br/> sewing machine and dress patterns and clothes in the closet <br/> from another time, from another life it seems and I’d like <br/> to go in there and try them on but I won’t fit and I don’t <br/> know what would happen if I did <br/> or my room which is so bright and has pink flowers even though <br/> I don’t particularly like pink and has so many posters I can’t <br/> tell where the wall begins or at least I think that sometimes <br/> <br/> and if it’s my room why can’t I take it all down, <br/> put away the pink and the posters and the high school mementos <br/> and paint the walls green like a forest that I can walk into <br/> and lose my way and not worry about being rescued <br/> or hearing anyone’s voice <br/> or seeing things familiar <br/> or recognizing the path <br/> or being recognized on it <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>(Phew) <br/>For a minute there I lost myself</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

kalleco 2006-04-02T07:57:05Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/b75f4871-84a8-487e-bf54-1d57bc8b93fa 2006-03-31T18:50:59Z 2006-03-31T18:50:59Z

<div>the unknown flowers in the <br/>corner of a wandering eye, <br/>given as offering to the <br/>swelling waves of novelty <br/> <br/>you can not drown <br/> <br/>you can only see <br/> <br/>dear sannyasin, the <br/>sun is in line with <br/>your third eye, <br/>burning holes in <br/>comfortable insulation, <br/>peering nakedly into <br/>the loving glare <br/>of the universe <br/> <br/>I am looking at <br/>you, bountiful beauty <br/> <br/>please, oh please <br/>see through me <br/> <br/>boil my blood and burn <br/>the tips of my fingers <br/>with everything I touch <br/> <br/>let no callous <br/>develop on my flesh <br/> <br/>show me no mercy and show <br/>me the way to give none <br/> <br/>give me nothing and take <br/>everything away so it's <br/>just you and I, eye to eye, <br/>I and I in holy communion <br/> <br/>I want to be dirty and <br/>feel perfectly clean <br/> <br/>I want to ride on the <br/>backs of bumblebees and <br/>grace the world the way <br/>clouds grace blue skies <br/> <br/>I want a summer breeze <br/>in my lungs and fertile <br/>earth in my guts <br/> <br/>I want to sing for the <br/>blumenkraft and dance <br/>among meteor showers <br/> <br/>I want to be <br/> <br/>did I ever tell you about <br/>the tauroboleast in the <br/>year of the turnabout sage? <br/> <br/>godless, thus headless, he <br/>sat at the edge of the ocean <br/> <br/>a former blues singer <br/>now with no mouth, <br/>he'd learned to <br/>constrict and relax <br/>the various pipes <br/>showing through the <br/>cavity that once <br/>began his neck <br/> <br/>he sang to me <br/>in a series <br/>of squirts <br/>and gurgles <br/> <br/>he sang to me a <br/>story of his time <br/>spent in the desert <br/> <br/>having no eyes and no <br/>ears, he had no reason <br/>to stand upright to <br/>assure his fellow man <br/>of a mutually <br/>inclusive existence <br/> <br/>his arms and legs grew limp <br/>and he slithered like a <br/>sidewinder through the rolling <br/>hills of desert sand, leaving <br/>trails of an obsidian fluid <br/>which secreted from his pores <br/> <br/>one day a priest followed the <br/>trail to a rock on which the <br/>tauroboleast was sunning and <br/>offered him a golden head <br/> <br/>the tauroboleast swallowed <br/>it and passed it through <br/>his body as hot fecal matter <br/>oozed from his asshole and <br/>the priest watched in horror <br/> <br/>"off with his head," <br/>cried the coyote <br/> <br/>we make gods of the headless <br/>and they make fools of us all <br/> <br/>we put masks on beauty and <br/>spit up hot desert sand <br/> <br/>I saw the future <br/>in a pile of shit <br/> <br/>it was bloodless decapitation <br/> <br/>it was life passing <br/>through the esophagus <br/> <br/>it was everything <br/>we are afraid of <br/>and all that we want <br/> <br/>Buddha laid face <br/>down in the dirt <br/>and Christ laughed <br/>at his own fart jokes <br/> <br/>Zoroaster ate a soup of <br/>ash and Ganesh got the <br/>fuck out of the way <br/> <br/>I sat godless, thus <br/>headless, at the edge <br/>of the ocean and sang <br/>to poets in a series <br/>of squirts and gurgles <br/> <br/>it was everything you wanted <br/> <br/>I want to be a train <br/>crawling over the <br/>tiny wrinkles of <br/>overlapping waves in <br/>the St. John River <br/> <br/>I want to wrap myself in the <br/>gentle flaking of my echo <br/> <br/>I want to ride beauty <br/>bareback and kicking <br/> <br/>I want to leave nothing implied <br/> <br/>I'm reaching out and seeing <br/>into the heart of a mother, <br/>smoking filterless cigarettes <br/>and swallowing fire at the <br/>edge of a strange garden <br/> <br/>I pick flowers and present <br/>them to the ground beneath <br/> <br/>I am the multi-petaled warrior <br/>swinging a soft green sword <br/>through the air with a cry of <br/>peace that fills the skies <br/> <br/>I am the sun in bloom <br/>in every digestive system <br/> <br/>I am eternal and flowing <br/> <br/>I am slowly coming <br/>to realize that I <br/>AM and nothing <br/>stands in the way <br/> <br/>it is the divine right to receive</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-03-31T18:50:59Z Noelle http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/25f28acc-15e2-4219-bd33-35564ba52312 2006-03-31T03:43:32Z 2006-03-31T03:43:32Z

<div>Anyone going to the celebration at Columbia?</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Noelle 2006-03-31T03:43:32Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/78f55291-88b0-418c-8414-fb8b9119b631 2006-03-30T05:53:11Z 2006-03-30T05:53:11Z

<div>sometimes I think my <br/>poetry is a collection <br/>of thoughts received by <br/>me from a future self <br/> <br/>I wonder how you <br/>can have echoes <br/>when you thought <br/>there were no walls <br/> <br/>"Watch your bike!" <br/> <br/>an old man sits on a <br/>park bench drawing the <br/>line between bums with <br/>limps and business men <br/>with limps but no pride <br/> <br/>giggling and gnawing <br/>at the plastic wrap <br/>of his 305's, his <br/>voice grates me and <br/>riddles me with holes <br/> <br/>I am in bed again <br/>surfing the crests <br/>of twilight and <br/>wondering what it <br/>would be like to <br/>go back to then <br/> <br/>would I change <br/>anything or would <br/>I say hello to an <br/>old dream in flight <br/>now perched on a <br/>high branch? <br/> <br/>I didn't even <br/>come close to <br/>hitting you <br/>and my drunken <br/>sway is only for <br/>maximum enjoyment <br/> <br/>but I understand the <br/>need to call across <br/>the stillness and <br/>unite the two halves <br/>of a new clock <br/> <br/>I am in the back of <br/>a car feigning sleep <br/>and becoming certain <br/>that tonight will end <br/>two months before <br/> <br/>I will be in bed <br/>wondering why I <br/>didn't let that night <br/>turn into another day <br/> <br/>the brakes bring <br/>me to a stop and <br/>compress my speed <br/>into the rapid <br/>eye movements of <br/>my dream self <br/> <br/>the noise creeps up <br/>on me like odorless <br/>dark hands from the <br/>bushes beside his bench <br/> <br/>I am in space now <br/>in the black expanse <br/>thinking of the <br/>birth of the universe <br/>and my home planet <br/> <br/>wondering if I would <br/>change anything or if <br/>I would say hello to <br/>my one dream in motion <br/> <br/>"Watch your bike!" <br/> <br/>"Oh. My bad."</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-03-30T05:53:11Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/beb6c107-6bfe-414a-9625-aab982e1944f 2006-03-28T22:26:50Z 2006-03-28T18:30:08Z

<div>I wanted no limits but <br/>she gave me no time, <br/> <br/>and I don't know who <br/>to dedicate this to. <br/> <br/>It seems to apply <br/>to so many situations. <br/> <br/>There is always a feeling <br/>of things being rushed, <br/> <br/>rushed beyond the moments <br/>that make it worth it, <br/> <br/>beyond noticing the way shadows <br/>make spiders on the ceiling, <br/> <br/>beyond the rising desire <br/>to make your skin crawl. <br/> <br/>I like guessing what <br/>you ate for dinner, <br/> <br/>by the smell of your breath <br/>climbing up from my chest. <br/> <br/>Whoever you are, <br/>whatever you ate tonight, <br/> <br/>I want to be inside you. <br/>It's hummus, isn't it?</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

beausoleil 2006-03-28T18:30:08Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/29dc58b8-4703-48e8-935c-afe13200c14c 2006-03-27T18:40:54Z 2006-03-27T18:40:54Z

<div>plugged in <br/>tugged down <br/>alpha, beta <br/>theta, delta <br/>bayou blistering <br/>your swamp <br/>of brainwaves <br/>fucked up <br/>and fucking <br/>the beast <br/>sprung from <br/>the tongue <br/>head down <br/>south and <br/>kundalini will <br/>rise again <br/>snakes sun- <br/>baked on <br/>rocks of <br/>inner lakes <br/>in pools <br/>of sweat <br/>we will <br/>go down <br/>dear girl <br/>and by <br/>the incandescent <br/>light of <br/>great scales <br/>we will <br/>rise again</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-03-27T18:40:54Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/0ebe7875-4c38-43d4-8a4f-03db668e1f8d 2006-03-27T01:04:53Z 2006-03-27T01:04:53Z

<div>let me tell you <br/>a story about the <br/>metanoid android <br/>and Mrs. Sippy <br/> <br/>they made love in <br/>mud and they <br/>made war on <br/>time, yellow fingers <br/>wrapped around <br/>other yellow fingers <br/> <br/>locked fibers <br/>of the sun's <br/>garment they wore <br/>on parade through <br/>the downtown <br/>of their love <br/> <br/>past old brick <br/>decontamination <br/>showers and older <br/>souls carrying <br/>poetry around <br/>in soapboxes <br/> <br/>well, on this day <br/>Mrs. Sippy's river <br/>of tears was <br/>glittering for the <br/>love of the sun <br/>and her banks were <br/>moist and tingling <br/> <br/>you know the <br/>metanoid android <br/>dove in and <br/>swam up her <br/>dissonance kicking <br/>like mad past <br/>fish and angels <br/> <br/>swimming for the <br/>ultimate liberation <br/>of knowing that all <br/>connections must <br/>start somewhere and <br/>they start right here <br/>and right now <br/> <br/>in the jewelled <br/>networks of your <br/>nerves slithering <br/>like snakes in the <br/>tree of knowledge <br/> <br/>I'll go out on a <br/>limb and say he <br/>even made it to <br/>the other shore <br/> <br/>tired, soggy, ready <br/>to lay his head <br/>down between a <br/>rock and a hard <br/>place or to <br/>dive in again and <br/>float downstream <br/> <br/>but Paul, it <br/>is like dying, <br/>like drowning <br/>in love so <br/>flowing and free <br/> <br/>still he kisses her <br/>with footprints in <br/>the sand and her <br/>tides lap them up <br/> <br/>yeah, yeah, yeah <br/>blow it, man, blow <br/>it through skulls <br/> <br/>blow it through <br/>hearts soft from <br/>the swim and blow <br/>it out your ass <br/>when it's all <br/>said and done <br/> <br/>counting Mrs. <br/>Sippy 1, Mrs. <br/>Sippy 2, Mrs. <br/>Sippy 3, until <br/>the river <br/>runs dry <br/> <br/>wondering why they <br/>call you driftwood <br/>when you sink like <br/>a fucking stone</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-03-27T01:04:53Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/df7c9f84-8b5d-4f61-b544-17f14f6239fb 2006-03-26T02:07:04Z 2006-03-26T02:07:04Z

<div>the nature of the beast <br/>is nurtured in bright <br/>stretches of being, born <br/>into being, born into <br/>wild hearts full of <br/>weeds, green and growing <br/> <br/>born and being, born <br/>and breathing, making <br/>real the unreal, as it <br/>grows up from the roots <br/> <br/>this strange fruit is a <br/>flowering of your guts' <br/>soil and soul nutrients <br/> <br/>burn what you want, <br/>ashes blow away in the <br/>wind and something new <br/>will always grow <br/> <br/>to be born and being, <br/>slowly seeing into the <br/>sun, intimate caresses <br/>of body and warmth, wet <br/>fresh breaths, multilayered <br/>prayers for bright planets <br/> <br/>pulling consciousness into <br/>motion, calling self to play <br/>in the twinkling grass of the <br/>cosmos, singing to the poet <br/>in weeds, green and growing <br/> <br/>across scales, pulsing <br/>energy from root to <br/>thought's leaves and <br/>arrives and ever-forever <br/>severed attachments <br/> <br/>baby, even when lulled <br/>by a gentle wind I am a <br/>wild, wild heart, my weeds <br/>are growing for the born <br/>and being, every last <br/>god damn stalk and soul <br/> <br/>and yet I think we <br/>may be growing apart</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-03-26T02:07:04Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/82878073-b16c-4c89-ac06-70a63116976b 2006-03-25T14:34:56Z 2006-03-24T22:42:22Z

<div>cancer cells and America <br/>is buying, a particle of <br/>dust, a spark, a butterfly <br/>jumping smoke rings, no <br/>dogs running, no paws <br/>padded, grit, grime, greed <br/>generated in the mouth <br/> <br/>still we kiss with tongues <br/>with nipped buds <br/> <br/>I don't swallow what I can <br/>not see, I can't see you <br/>behind veils of sleep <br/> <br/>drop the pen and rise <br/>above, above mohawks <br/>and miseries tailor-made <br/>for any vacancy, I can <br/>only fill my holes with <br/>love and watch it come <br/>out the other side <br/> <br/>savor fruit's sugar, <br/>loopholes, loose lengths, <br/>m-branes, monkey brains <br/>sizzling on the Pan <br/> <br/>every circle is a spiral <br/>if you dream in depth <br/> <br/>my spiral flames and <br/>smolders at the point of <br/>creation, elation, silent <br/>and screaming, teaming <br/>with clear instructions <br/>clearly mistaken as the <br/>game beneath the game <br/>beneath the game rises <br/>to the surface <br/> <br/>blame's written in the <br/>fault lines and washes <br/>away with wet waves of <br/>seeing, freeing perceptions <br/>in conception <br/> <br/>don't fuck yourself with <br/>contraception, don't bleed <br/>without a space for the <br/>river to run, be strong, be <br/>wrong, be as much as the <br/>day is long and song babbles <br/>on in the crystal pylons of <br/>morphogenetic geometry <br/> <br/>the tower will fall and <br/>shatter and you will limp <br/>through the memory in <br/>tatters, but in the moment, <br/>in every pure momentum is <br/>the sum of earth, water, <br/>wood, earthly goods <br/>unearthed and birthed into <br/>the black womb of space <br/> <br/>don't race past your <br/>pleasure, don't pass <br/>yourself for lasting <br/>beyond time's mustard <br/>seed clock <br/> <br/>climax maxed and mixed <br/>unfixed in the flow of <br/>tao-dried hair, dreadlocks, <br/>dread not, dead rots in <br/>layers but unending life <br/>lies at the core <br/> <br/>drift to the center and <br/>devour the fringes, <br/>it's the hour of bright <br/>tinges tinting eons, <br/>electric warriors spanned <br/>in this space laced with <br/>clean moving nutrition <br/> <br/>eat well, sleep well, <br/>be well, waking from <br/>beneath the ground <br/> <br/>awareness is aware of <br/>this bliss and right <br/>about now you are too <br/> <br/>you are awake</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

beausoleil 2006-03-24T22:42:22Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/21e4a0dd-1bb0-4ac5-8a16-6accb2f6191b 2006-03-23T19:23:58Z 2006-03-23T19:23:58Z

<div>there's a dead indian laying in my garden <br/> <br/>there's a soft petal push on a collapsing skull <br/> <br/>bathed in the light of a pointing finger <br/> <br/>flashing, strobing, ripping me wide open <br/> <br/>red light slips across cracked black walls <br/> <br/>I'm writing poetry with a cigarette's bright ember <br/> <br/>dotting dusting eyes, signing X's in the skies <br/> <br/>hips moving, lips proving the impact of our ground floor <br/> <br/>I want more, more, more, and I GET IT <br/> <br/>every second of every first bludgeoning <br/> <br/>this is the better part of the knife <br/> <br/>this is the better life <br/> <br/>fists rot but still the spirit swings <br/> <br/>towards third eyes, raindance radiance drizzling on soft cheeks <br/> <br/>today I moved to a new place in my mind <br/> <br/>we had a housewarming party of cowboy hats and Christ in spurs <br/> <br/>you swing to the rhythm and I swing to the quickness <br/> <br/>we fuck for friends and we fuck for the goodbye <br/> <br/>scratching at the surface, plumetting at the core <br/> <br/>intersecting lines and bright lights, you're slipping <br/> <br/>into the grinning darkness of before <br/> <br/>ladies and gentlemen, the ineffable illumination <br/> <br/>he'll be gone come the fall <br/> <br/>falling sleep in strange places, waking where it matters most</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-03-23T19:23:58Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/47d87be6-8242-4855-be5c-1dd83c355e99 2006-03-12T20:55:05Z 2006-03-12T01:05:41Z

<div>i just don’t want to keep this up <br/>this love this dream this longing <br/>tired of driving <br/>so far just to see you <br/>it’s not the drive <br/>because i need the time to think <br/>about everything <br/>(except what i’m doing <br/>with you <br/>(for you)) <br/>it’s not the drive that wears me out <br/>it’s the arriving <br/>and then the leaving <br/>that goes on every second in between <br/>because the love the dream the longing <br/>is wearing out <br/>stretched so thin by hiding underneath it <br/>(and being hidden <br/>from everyone else <br/>(but mostly just me and you)) <br/>like a blanket too raggedy to show <br/>security blanket, really, <br/>because the whole thing is too <br/>dangerous painful <br/>to put away <br/>to pack up and move on <br/>but you need to as much as i need <br/>to hang on to this <br/>a love a dream a longing <br/>that doesn’t give or breathe or grow <br/>and just won’t die either</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

kalleco 2006-03-12T01:05:41Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/53ced42c-1e4e-4d7d-b4ac-abf865c65faf 2006-03-03T22:28:22Z 2006-03-02T05:12:51Z

<div>buddha babies, they <br/>desire not the milk <br/>metabolizing their own <br/>under the bodhi tree of <br/>mommy's shadow <br/>I love you, buddha babies</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 3 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-03-02T05:12:51Z Noelle http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/05038766-5c11-4d2f-bd06-d4ef67664e1e 2006-02-22T03:31:23Z 2006-02-22T03:13:49Z

<div>I'm a high-school student, and I just came in contact with Lawrence Ferlinghetti's "Coney Island of the Mind"...and man, oh man. <br/> <br/>I borrowed it from a favorite peer before last block today, and I didn't really open it until I was at the library after school. After I had made my way through the first two pages, I couldn't stop. I put off German homework to read it. I put off socializing to read it. Hell, I even put off Neal Cassady's letters to Kerouac (the bus one - with the virgin and the other broad) to read it. <br/> <br/>Nonetheless, I was SO IMPRESSED with it. What personality! What word use! What consonance! It was an English kid's wet dream. <br/> <br/>I haven't been too familiarized with the SanFran poetic renaissance, but I really look forward to getting into it after this little number. Any suggestions? <br/>(bare with me if I seem like an annoying-beginner-child)</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

Noelle 2006-02-22T03:13:49Z Atomic http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/dafd686b-8b11-4de8-9cb6-eee0954a1fc0 2006-02-22T02:40:17Z 2006-02-22T02:40:17Z

<div> <br/> <br/>"public transportation blues" <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>meanness... <br/> <br/>vitriol... <br/> <br/>seething apoplectic apocalyptic <br/>insanity - - <br/> <br/>ruminating <br/>like three infernal evangelists <br/>on speed <br/>with Tourette's <br/>broadcasting concurrently on <br/>three overlapping frequencies - - <br/> <br/>(okay, just take a Clonapin) <br/> <br/>desperation <br/>from lack of insulation; <br/>mass-murderer, serial killer, vigilante... <br/>pest control - - <br/> <br/>when <br/>"today is the first day of <br/>the rest of your life" <br/>is an insidious, heinous <br/>threat <br/>from the hoi polloi <br/>and <br/>"Miller time" becomes <br/>a kiss <br/>on a boo-boo <br/>that happens to be a <br/>compound fracture... <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>WILL EVERYONE PLEASE TAKE ONE STEP <br/>TOWARD THE BACK OF THE BUS!!! <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>2003 by ATB</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Atomic 2006-02-22T02:40:17Z Atomic http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/92d4b6bc-fd26-4f85-a9af-89e5f276241f 2006-02-20T20:52:42Z 2006-02-20T20:52:42Z

<div>Okay, this is a lengthy piece, and one that I have just finished after a two-plus year hiatus with the material. I re-worked the second half directly from my old notes, and hopefully it compliments the first half which has been finished now for about a year. The two portions are separated by asterisks. For those who have the patience and attention span, here it goes... <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>"Thought for food" <br/> <br/> <br/> Even sitting at the bar of the Alexandria on a Tuesday night is a high point compared to being sardined with packed, stinking humanity, riding back from a work day no less humiliating than, perhaps, the debacle of an infirm former president wearing a leaky diaper while eating peas with a knife at Spago. At least my draft’s cheap, if not entirely cold. <br/> <br/> I’m leaning on the counter, next to an older, very weathered and frayed black man drinking the same, who is staring downward like a zombie, face ruined by poverty. Other, more non-descript denizens are scuttling through the penumbrae - - non-descript due to the high nature of my indifference. <br/> <br/> The place is clean, dark, with lots of mirrored surfaces, highlighted in multi-colored pastel neon,. Got a pool table; a dance floor, which judging by the local flavor must not see a hell of a lot of dancing; a juke box that’d do well in a younger, “hipper” part of town. The bartender’s young (looks too young to legally drink), vaguely Armenian, with a kind of gypsy feel to her - - black blouse, black slacks, black shoes, lots of gold necklaces catching the neon, covering what seems to resemble an attractive gymnast’s figure of average height wrapped in pale skin and topped off with straightened shoulder length henna-dyed hair sporting black roots, framing the type of face that passes as “exotic” when neutral or amused, yet one I wouldn’t want to see caught within the throes of extreme displeasure, judging from two ferally dark, vacant eyes and a wide mouth stuffed with large, slightly jagged white teeth. To me, every living sentient presence in this place is a human Claymore that radiates a field of energy acting like a pressure plate leading to detonation - - most of them detonating from multiple, and incalculably diverse, stimuli. I try not to absentmindedly channel the general temperment of, say, a young girl getting her first period while treading water in a shark tank. <br/> <br/> I’ve visited this “drinking establishment” maybe three times within the last week, and every time I walk up to the bar, the gypsy states with flat voice and flat glance, “I.D., or show me you have enough money for a drink.”; I show my I.D., looking for a classification by association with an apparent semi-elite group of patrons. It closes at 12:30 a.m., and for me the place serves only to furnish enough of a buzz to aid in sleep when faced with an undesirably overactive mind. The contrast of sad, ragged clientele against a decor of fleur de lis and gay neon squiggles is a depressing assault on senses already assaulted by a chronic depression, yet with a couple of swallows left to my last beer, the metronomic intro to a song playing on the jukebox, Pink Floyd’s “Time”, seeps into my awareness, and it’s good hearing this old friend, regardless of morose message or current surroundings. For a moment I lose sense of where I am, why I am where I am, and even why I am AT ALL rather than NOT... when “WHO DA HELL PLAYED DIS DEPRESSIN’ SHIT!!!” explodes from my formerly placid bar neighbor - - I’m hiding visible signs of shell-shock, yet my heart rate has just tripled and my scalp tingles like an expressway for a writhing rush-hour of maggots; then (of course!) he turns directly to me, and in dramatic fashion re-formats his protest from general outburst to personalized, rabidly emphatic questions that, judging by eye contact, I am damn-well expected to answer. <br/> <br/> “WHO DA HELL IS DIS SANGIN’??? GODDAMNED FUCKIN’ HIPPIE SHIT - - HEY MAN, YOU DON’T WANNA HEAR NONE O’ DIS HIPPIE SHIT?!?” <br/> <br/>Not quite being in the mood to share my fondness for this song with a screaming downhill freight train loaded to the point of mechanical failure with the detritus of an unsatisfactory life-experience while approaching a junction of track with myself standing directly on one of the ensuing path choices, I - - without a word - - look squarely into his eyes with the most vacant, soulless expression I can generate under present conditions, and slowly shake my head from side to side in the universal human gesture for “no”. He displays an almost unperceptible slackening of an incredible tension, and as his stare begins slowly to melt, my gypsy bartender, whom I have completely forgotten, flips her little “happy switch” and skips the remainder of the song, which has immediate and final effect: after a short, yet seemingly pregnant pause, the freight train is once again a limp and ragged lump on a barstool drinking warm flat beer, serenaded now by the soothing strains of The Gap Band’s “You Dropped A Bomb On Me”, and staring deeply, unseeingly, into the murk of his own personal quadrant of space. Unbelievably, I’m seriously fighting an urge to laugh - - not the hearty laugh of amusement, nor the giggle of nervous release, but a high tittering sound born from depths of the soul better unvisited and denoting almost crippling strain placed upon the invisible fascia that retains the integrity of one’s sanity. <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>* * * <br/> <br/> <br/>Approximately two mouthfuls of tepid jaundiced beer, displaying sluggish and anemic streams of carbonation and showcased within a scratched, smudged glass vessel, indifferently await the swilling action of my right hand... and as I silently suppress a slopping overflow of anxiety, a new sensation tugs at the corners of consciousness: hunger. <br/> <br/> Swallowing my mouth’s last evidence of alcohol-flavored saliva, it seems that my id has prepared me to venture out into the surrounding suffering streets in search of a digestible morsel from some as-yet undiscovered little late-night greasy spoon; with relief that comes from leaving the scene of an accident, I abandon the cracked red vinyl of my stool and approach with hope and creeping trepidation the doors that open on the dimly-lit corner of Fifth and Spring. <br/> <br/> At the end of the bar sits a simianesque security guard, and before walking out into 12:30 a.m. homeless-owned streets, I chance an inquisition into the probability of some type of culinary sustenance - - the location of an imagined awaiting “burrito or something”. The guard - - emaciated, scarred, disheveled, unshaven, strung-out, mongoose-eyed, and feral in a way more hostile and obvious than my bartender/savior - - nods thoughtfully (or nods in whatever substance-or-mongoloid afflicted state he’s experiencing that masquerades as “thoughtful”) and says, “No-ayn-nothin’-roun’-’ere.” Accepting this deflating response as guttural gospel, the moment finds me spinning on my heels and then heading for the door which opens into the hotel’s lobby where a piss-spattered elevator ride awaits, that is in actuality anything but elevating. <br/> <br/> Just as I reach the lobby’s threshold, however, the shiva-saturated sentinel of security has stealthily appeared behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. <br/> <br/> “’Ey - - ’ere’s-a-guy-sellin’-food-rye-outside.” <br/> <br/> Turning to face Mongoose-Eyes, and deciding that his good samaritan display requires a follow-through on my part to show appreciation (and to stay on good terms with “the house”), I troop back over my previous departing footfalls to arrive at the street entrance which showcases a moonless night enveloping a desolate post-armageddon scene, assuming that I’ll find an ecoli-cart-swilleria-on-wheels; looking right and left and scanning emptiness, I ask my hovering benefactor “where?” - - the tone of this question betraying subtle undercurrents of demand, as patience for him, my current lifestyle, humanity and all creation is nearing an apoplectic end-of-endurance. <br/> <br/> “RYE-’ERE!” blasts my skid-row culinary pimp, seemingly equally exasperated with me, his cranky, ungrateful “john”. And... in the shadows of a depression in the wall outside of the doorway... stands a man. <br/> <br/> He is perhaps six feet four inches tall, on the very hard and worn side of his early fifties, wearing, at a glance, a soiled beige pork-pie hat, brown plaid-and-smear flannel shirt, dark slacks whose shape has been worn, stretched and sweated out of them, and hard shoes I cannot see but hear as his feet shuffle and scrape the pavement while standing in place. He has a little metal two-wheeled grocery cart like the type one’s grandmother might bring to market, which is filled seemingly with his life’s possessions. <br/> <br/> “I’m sellin’ dis here food, man - - I got sardines man, sardines! A granola bar! In here (referring to a black plastic bag-wrapped styrofoam “to go” container resting on the palm of his left hand, said container acting as platform for the other stacked food items, together resembling a dumpster-ecscavated ziggurat) is a chicken dinner with rice - - some o’ the chicken already been et, though.” <br/> <br/> At first, I have no reply. Then, after what seems like a very pregnant silence, I say, “Sorry, I wanted something like a burrito.” <br/> <br/> Now, generally, I had come to the conclusion that I could walk these “mean streets” and use my minimal level of street awareness, hiding behind my facade of “ten thousand pounds of compressed I don’t give a fuck” to pass-off my charade - - and, maybe this was true. Yet, being someone who has willfully inserted himself into this emaciated environment as a means to a more hopeful end, ultimately, I know nothing of what these impoverished people go through - - how they feel at the end of every day; I am an unwanted visitor, a poseur in their world. And, I have just offended this man. <br/> <br/> He was told by the guard that someone was hungry, and hunger to the man standing in front of me is most likely a crippling need - - put off only, perhaps, by the hunger produced by another, much more costly crippling need, the early withdrawal throes from which he seems fairly immersed in at present. On another day, he might knife someone for attempting to steal the bounty he now offers to me... for the price of two dollars. <br/> <br/> I told him that I was “more in the mood for a burrito” - - now he is more in the mood for kicking the shit out of me for my casual arrogance - - unintentional to be sure, but in his world, insulting arrogance all the same. <br/> <br/> Understanding what I have done moments after my remark does not mean that I can retract it, just as I cannot stop the trajectory of a rock thrown at a window the instant after it leaves my fingertips. <br/> <br/> But, this man (not bum, not transient, not drug addict) whose face initially lit up with outrage, is in possession of grace, of tolerance; he displays the ability to communicate across the barriers of divided worlds, divided realities. He not only does this well, he excels in these abilities, just as I have exposed myself to be disturbingly deficient in the same. He visibly restrains himself verbally, swallows what he was poised to spew, and with a measured sigh and look of - - forgiveness - - understanding - - or of just letting it all go because he’s bone tired and I’m not worth depleting his valuable energy reserves needed for survival - - he looks at me with soft eyes and speaks with softened tone: “Man, dis is good food. You hongry, dis food is good.” <br/> <br/>Completely shamed by my own ineptitude (only the latest installment among the innumerable), feeling water leak into the corners of my eyes, then swallowing the jagged brick suddenly lodged within my throat, I croak, “Thank you for the offer... I appreciate it. You hang on to it... ” and hand him the few dollar bills I have wadded in my pants pocket. Is it insult to injury in not taking the offering? Is this apologizing for my idiocy? Am I buying some brand of puny redemption? At this moment there are no answers. <br/> <br/> I spin on my heels and then head for the door which opens into the hotel’s lobby, where a piss-spattered elevator awaits, that is in actuality, like this entire evening: anything but elevating... <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>2003/2006 by ATB <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/></div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Atomic 2006-02-20T20:52:42Z Noelle http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/f9fbe9db-6e63-469e-be88-6e3d0fd23b03 2006-02-19T08:43:30Z 2006-02-18T00:36:40Z

<div>Holy room-man stuck in the walls of the shelf <br/>Sleeps on the surface with B-Anges (some are missing) <br/>Do you remember the fifteenth? The sixteenth? This morning?</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 2 replies </div>

Noelle 2006-02-18T00:36:40Z Atomic http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/1bd875e6-611f-4304-9eb5-f8480dbbbb1c 2006-02-17T22:15:16Z 2006-02-17T22:15:16Z

<div> <br/> <br/> <br/>"occasions" <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>on occasion <br/>as bathyscaphe <br/>i may use <br/>a debauch <br/>to find bottoms <br/>yet discovered <br/>but hinted <br/>by residues <br/>on my surface <br/>tho' it's hoped <br/>such origins <br/>i'll not reach - - <br/> <br/> <br/>if i can help it. <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>2003 by ATB</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Atomic 2006-02-17T22:15:16Z torwebster http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/791fa90e-c68f-46b2-b6cf-37194ddbd173 2006-02-17T11:52:47Z 2006-02-16T21:19:17Z

<div>Linda of Melbourne. <br/>Tor Webster 01/02/06 <br/> <br/>Do you like to be loved? Linda ‘see you on the trams’ <br/>Because I would like to love you, with your worldly eyes, <br/>“are you in that band?” no I’m here in discise, ready to be loved, <br/>no more do I want to hide, <br/>I want to break free from my emotional bondage, <br/>I want to forgive and forgive those that brought me here and taught me to fear, <br/>Those that made me hate the word ‘love’ <br/>and made me shiver when I lay next to the goddess <br/>and prayer to the God above that one day I will love, <br/>love myself, love life and now love you Linda ‘see you on the trams.’ <br/> <br/>Take me to that place of earthly freedom, <br/>Take me to that place to continue the human race of unity, <br/>Let us belong next to the greatest lovers of this life in grace, <br/>No trouble and strife maybe even be my wife? <br/>Who knows where this new love would take us? <br/>Embrace love, let it belong to us, <br/>I long to sit on the bus or tram and see your face again, <br/>And if I am brave, which I would love to be, <br/>I would sit there with a smile of joy, <br/>Connect your eyes to my heart and read you this poem, <br/>And if once again we did part, then at least you would know, <br/>Linda you opened my heart and healed every single beating part, <br/> <br/>You took me to that place of true love, <br/>No mamsy pamsy pink pansies, <br/>No ooo la la Paris walking shenanigans, <br/>Love that ignites insights, <br/>Love that glows warm the coldest closed rooms in your mind, <br/>Love that reminds you of your lost love, <br/>Love that reminds you of your first kiss or even having kids!? <br/>Linda ‘see you on the trams’ maybe love is lost again, <br/>Ships that pass in the night or maybe I should have faith, <br/>Trust spirit to help to reunite us, <br/>I’m only here for two more days, you said ‘see you at the 303 bar’ <br/>I’m don’t know? I could sit there all that time with my old friend paranoia, <br/>Or move on with memories, <br/> <br/>If I did see you again Im sure my old ways to fear love would set in, <br/>And thoughts of me doing the greatest sin to man by loving you would return, <br/>So Linda all my I give you <br/>and hope some how, some where what you gave me will also be given to you, <br/>see you on the trams,</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 2 replies </div>

torwebster 2006-02-16T21:19:17Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/ad8909a7-366e-43d5-a62b-a42fdd28a02e 2006-02-15T03:14:13Z 2006-02-14T07:47:36Z

<div>i have been lost before <br/>and i waited <br/>behind the tired wet wood of my grandmother’s fence <br/>next to the abandoned go-cart <br/>the one that you cut your hand on <br/>and it turned yellow with infection <br/>like when i crawled under the porch floorboards <br/>and met a nail from many years before <br/>also waiting for an open hand <br/>to slide into <br/>rust and all <br/>in the firefly twilight, the bats squealing overhead <br/>shhhh...please don’t give me away <br/>they’ll never find me <br/>waiting in the abandoned theater <br/>lying on the steps beneath the light booth <br/>with the lone lightbulb glowing <br/>and red rain playing somewhere <br/>while you take apart the sets <br/>or cover up the orchestra pit <br/>and put everything back to normal <br/>so they’ll never know what was here <br/>waiting in the dark <br/>outside your window <br/>with my foot caught in the bushes that cling to my sweater <br/>and the drying leaves threatening to give me away <br/>before i’m ready <br/>my bike leans against the wall <br/>but you won’t notice <br/>and the girl who was brushed by the car <br/>walks past without seeing <br/>or at least without saying so <br/>and i’m thankful for the light dancing through the blinds <br/>and the shadows who wait with me <br/>hiding and seeking <br/>in the quiet, green and still <br/>of my midnight room <br/>it’s like a forest here <br/>except for that song and the patient pulse <br/>of the computer’s light <br/>while it sleeps <br/>and i’m waiting <br/>but they’ll never find me <br/>it’s not that it’s so hard <br/>or that i don’t want to be found <br/>it’s just that the game ended long ago <br/>and you forgot to look <br/>or even call <br/>olly olly oxen free</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

kalleco 2006-02-14T07:47:36Z Atomic http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/55b11048-58bb-42cb-9aa3-8295a911cd9b 2006-02-14T19:44:38Z 2006-02-14T19:44:38Z

<div> <br/> <br/> <br/>"my 'funny' valentine" <br/> <br/> <br/>heart-shaped purple-hued pulp-and-thorns, <br/>roots caked with hard desolate earth - - <br/>ripped from a desert parcel <br/>before a developer's advancing treads <br/>sporting huge metal blades - - <br/>and shoved into a weathered green-glazed pot; <br/>this is my valentine <br/>to you... <br/> <br/>barbed mace-shaped blood-red epithets, <br/>with roots in grudging disillutioned flesh - - <br/>torn from a petty place <br/>before the final drowning tide <br/>upon which floats final dissolution - - <br/>and shoved into a crappy bowl of franks and beans; <br/>this is your valentine <br/>to me... <br/> <br/>funny how you get "purple hearts", <br/>while I get slashed... <br/> <br/>happy... <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>forget it. <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>2006 by ATB <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/></div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Atomic 2006-02-14T19:44:38Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/ae6cd922-c97f-4858-98c7-02c3aafb6c9c 2006-02-13T08:24:00Z 2006-02-13T08:24:00Z

<div>you watch thoughts arrive <br/>and you smell what waste <br/>is left of them, but have <br/>you ever stood on all <br/>platforms of the train <br/>station of your mind at <br/>once and waved good- <br/>bye in all directions? <br/> <br/>these thoughts are full <br/>of restless, kick-happy <br/>children and lovers <br/>anxious to be reunited <br/>and they are waving to <br/>you, or at least they <br/>keep one honest palm <br/>pressed to the window <br/>as a gesture of faith <br/> <br/>it's only right that you <br/>should wave back and pay <br/>mind to the passing, <br/>lest you forget there's <br/>an asshole to compliment <br/>your noisy mid-day head <br/> <br/>once I could've sworn I <br/>saw a young girl mouth <br/>the words "BRAIN WIDE <br/>OPEN" through her window <br/>and that day I drank no <br/>wine but I still laid my <br/>head down on a rock in <br/>the bridgeside forest <br/>and watched Orion swim <br/>headfirst through the <br/>rippling black depths <br/> <br/>that night I thought of <br/>the way I close my eyes <br/>and the world I know <br/>looks like a caboose <br/>disappearing in the chaos <br/>of trees, skies, and <br/>horizons swirling into <br/>one tepid unknown <br/> <br/>I got in trouble too many <br/>times for switching the <br/>lines to keep all trains <br/>from getting too far away, <br/>so now I've learned how <br/>to let things go <br/> <br/>after all, someone is <br/>always arriving and <br/>they've all spent the <br/>whole trip thinking <br/>about what arms might <br/>embrace them to make <br/>them feel so wanted <br/> <br/>maybe I can carry their <br/>bags for some change or <br/>maybe we can carry each <br/>other to heaven in a <br/>dark corner of the railyard <br/> <br/>maybe in one brief moment <br/>two people can be arriving <br/>at the very same place for <br/>the very same reasons and <br/>maybe in one brief moment <br/>we can watch two trains <br/>collide head-on in the <br/>most beatufiul way <br/> <br/>of course, all fires will <br/>extinguish themselves, <br/>new boarding passes will <br/>be issued, and new <br/>destinations will be set, <br/>and this, too, will pass <br/>along invisible lines <br/> <br/>have you learned to kiss <br/>your thoughts in passing <br/>to the blessed blue of the <br/>everywhere, everything, <br/>and everyone else? <br/> <br/>in passing through the <br/>train station of your <br/>mind, I only want to be <br/>kissed hello and goodbye <br/>even if in a single act <br/>because I, like every <br/>other thought that has <br/>come to you, pass much <br/>easier with a smile</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-02-13T08:24:00Z Atomic http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/6df524bb-e6e0-431e-afae-6a8d080ae225 2006-02-13T03:06:55Z 2006-02-13T03:06:55Z

<div> <br/> <br/> <br/>“after awhile... ” <br/> <br/> <br/> smiles meant the unknown, <br/> as different from first discovery <br/> to reality <br/> as from travel brochure photos <br/> to scent and spray of alien seas, <br/> whose roiling opaque surfaces <br/> suggest alarming movements <br/> in depths <br/> unfathomed - - <br/> <br/> attentiveness meant a foraging, <br/> all candor, sensibilities, beliefs <br/> to be noted, transformed <br/> into filthy fuel <br/> to feed sad, maladjusted <br/> expostulations - - <br/> <br/> sex meant an acquiescence <br/> that imprisoned a mother; <br/> the Pope a warden, drunken father a guard <br/> whose extorted carnal favors <br/> bore this youngest of <br/> eight sequential <br/> consequences - - <br/> <br/> cohabitation means an expiration, <br/> date unbeknownst yet announced <br/> by an increasing sourness, <br/> disallowing consumption <br/> by one day becoming <br/> toxic. <br/> <br/> <br/>2005 by ATB</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Atomic 2006-02-13T03:06:55Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/0288e440-7d1c-4f01-9869-7a8d53b01b5a 2006-02-13T03:02:00Z 2006-02-12T23:24:18Z

<div>I am the keeper <br/>of an unknown <br/>pantheon <br/> <br/>every day I <br/>sweep out the <br/>broken bottles <br/>of cheap wine <br/> <br/>every day I <br/>shake memories <br/>from the ashtray <br/> <br/>every day I <br/>brush the dust <br/>from 1,000 <br/>unnamed faces <br/> <br/>and I tell <br/>them it's okay <br/>to be here and <br/>just as okay <br/>to leave <br/> <br/>I take my <br/>break early <br/>and sit in <br/>the middle <br/>of the floor <br/> <br/>I watch their <br/>eyes dart back <br/>and forth between <br/>each other <br/> <br/>a simple order <br/>of appearances <br/>tells a story <br/>of gods at play <br/> <br/>I observe a <br/>heart in motion <br/>through their eyes <br/> <br/>and ask myself <br/>constantly, who <br/>or what is <br/>living me now? <br/> <br/>if I am what <br/>I see, I am <br/>beauty flowing <br/>into itself <br/> <br/>I am fullness <br/>in shifting, <br/>undulating form <br/> <br/>and it's all <br/>a formality, <br/>the ups and <br/>the downs <br/> <br/>for the peace <br/>driving it all, <br/>flowing as it <br/>will, into itself <br/> <br/>my pantheon is <br/>1,000 open <br/>channels flowing <br/>with the love <br/>of a river <br/> <br/>flowing with <br/>everything nameless <br/>and thus holy <br/> <br/>sometimes 1,000 <br/>shadows pace <br/>the stone floors <br/>at night <br/> <br/>they too have <br/>the eyes to see <br/>1,000 suns <br/>now dawning <br/> <br/>when they slip <br/>back into the <br/>flow of all <br/>at once <br/> <br/>welcome to my <br/>pantheon - it's <br/>okay to be here <br/>and okay to leave <br/> <br/>but you'll always <br/>be here seeing and <br/>being seen <br/> <br/>flowing with 1,000 <br/>things of all at <br/>once into itself</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

beausoleil 2006-02-12T23:24:18Z Atomic http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/3045f8b5-f567-428d-9f23-7005e3374cb6 2006-02-13T02:59:32Z 2005-12-28T19:58:10Z

<div> <br/> <br/> <br/>“the politics of cat food” <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>other’s wives, <br/>husbands, <br/>assorted soulmates, <br/>lovers; <br/>familiarities bred and cultivated <br/>becoming unions - - <br/> <br/>the swirling of <br/>past faces and bodies that <br/>sadly haunt masturbatory crescendos <br/>or freeze the blood with embarassment <br/>march through a mind <br/>shat out upon a world <br/>for whom aborted couplings <br/>are the only true <br/>entaglements - - <br/> <br/>i had a cat <br/>who ran away <br/>after six years <br/>most likely for someone’s canned food <br/>to my dry - - <br/> <br/>God! to only find <br/>one <br/>who prefers the dry... <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>2005 by ATB</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

Atomic 2005-12-28T19:58:10Z Atomic http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/4540b1e0-9f41-4a2c-ad94-4ddaf5050235 2006-02-12T22:31:40Z 2006-02-12T22:31:40Z

<div>... oh, why the hell not, right??? For any of you in the San Francisco area, I will have a piece published in the forthcoming issue of VIAL magazine ("venom/poison" issue), a twisted little thing called "My 'Long Dark Night of the Soul', Con't"; if anyone had an interest in picking up this issue, I suppose they better save their lunch money 'cause I believe it tends to be a bit pricey ($12.00 I believe!). For those in the Seattle area, I will have a piece in the forthcoming issue of "The Puget Sound Papers" titled "Unexpected Gifts" - - all for the price of a PBR at your neighborhood dive bar. There you have it - - I'm a legend in my own mind...</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Atomic 2006-02-12T22:31:40Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/71be26f1-0103-4488-a085-d21311bac962 2006-02-11T04:29:10Z 2006-02-10T08:27:33Z

<div>golden apple brainwave <br/>undertow water laced <br/>flow sweeping streets <br/>purging veins of sleep <br/>Kallisti-misty faces <br/>stretched across <br/>infinite spaces <br/>falling into the <br/>toothless grin of <br/>eternity's seawater <br/>blotter wet blue twilight <br/>salting the night <br/>twisting root fibrous <br/>free moods exalted to <br/>Jesu consciousness <br/>carried up from the <br/>earth in perpetual <br/>birth birthrights <br/>blossoming being's <br/>unfragmented fertile <br/>soil and soul and I <br/>can't help but laugh <br/>in the aftermath of <br/>discord's higher energy <br/>stores crashing through <br/>tongues lashing for <br/>the friends of fire <br/>and zen breathing <br/>kingless crowns back <br/>into the source of <br/>sound vis a vis the <br/>vertices in the gentle <br/>hush of swaying trees <br/>in essence so prescious <br/>pristine mad beautiful <br/>monkeys swing from <br/>the limbs of their <br/>own language lain <br/>on stochastic strings <br/>knotting chaos in <br/>the hair of a giggling <br/>Christ Buddha Krishna <br/>crazy for our lady <br/>Eris and where is <br/>the maddest one of all? <br/>where are the <br/>avatars babbling <br/>among the stars? <br/>who are the diamond <br/>elephant tusks thrust <br/>into consensus <br/>reality's soft <br/>modality to leave <br/>every head hanging <br/>from its own reflection? <br/>right now right here <br/>we are the champions <br/>of cheer your <br/>inheritence of bright <br/>white bliss blistering <br/>grayface ratrace <br/>straightlaced sinners <br/>of seriousness... <br/>silly Bob Saget, tricks <br/>are for the kids at <br/>heart and those who <br/>paint smiles in the <br/>living joy of art!</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

beausoleil 2006-02-10T08:27:33Z Atomic http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/f8445852-58c3-4deb-901b-ef7e5f052606 2006-02-08T00:25:33Z 2006-02-05T22:08:49Z

<div> <br/> <br/> <br/>“the fortress” <br/> <br/> <br/>in the hot crowded bus <br/>she’s got a large bag of potato chips <br/>clutched within her hands. <br/>ruffles have ridges - - <br/>she has sharpened, serrated edges. <br/>the delicate sea urchin with <br/>her psychic spikes splayed outward <br/>fortelling what predators will encounter <br/>should they be brave enough, <br/>or hungry enough, <br/>or stupid enough, <br/>to try for the tender soft meat <br/>at her center, <br/>below the needle spires <br/>and armored crust. <br/> <br/>yet, there are some fishes <br/>with beaks upon jaws <br/>that will snip these spikes, <br/>one after another, <br/>then peck and crack <br/>the hard encasement, <br/>finally exposing her tender <br/>helpless core, <br/>devouring it. <br/> <br/>to her credit and her misfortune <br/>she wears her armor well - - <br/>it’s part of her magnetism; <br/>I admire her radiated hardness, <br/>the fortress, <br/>without disturbing the <br/>creature inside surrounded <br/>by an illusion of inpenetrability; <br/>it rages, loves, sleeps and dreams, <br/>rails against itself and thrives - - <br/>it lives on borrowed time. <br/> <br/>seventh and main, <br/>I prepare to exit; <br/>she’s attracted the attention <br/>of others unlike me - - <br/>the brave, the hungry, the stupid; <br/>at last glance <br/>her fortress is burned in my thoughts - - <br/>yet, there are some fishes... <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>2003 by ATB <br/> </div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 8 replies </div>

Atomic 2006-02-05T22:08:49Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/0b2a4236-df5e-4e8e-986d-b3b645cdd424 2006-02-05T09:07:57Z 2006-01-17T01:54:38Z

<div>what you need <br/>is someone like me <br/>which i think you know <br/>but you can’t believe <br/>because it really is unbelievable <br/>that i should crash into your world <br/>out of nowhere <br/>like a meteor <br/>or is that a cliche <br/>i might as well say rainbow <br/>or shooting star <br/>and go from dreamy to cheesy <br/>in two seconds flat <br/>but that just proves my point <br/>you need me <br/>because i can be as familiar as a cliche <br/>and just as goofy <br/>and you’ll never be the only dork <br/>when i’m with you <br/>i’ll keep you guessing <br/>but not with mind games <br/>and hoops to jump through <br/>to prove yourself to me <br/>it’s just that i’m a season <br/>that has to change <br/>so you won’t be bored <br/>unless you decide <br/>you can’t handle mystery <br/>which is why you need me <br/>because i am a puzzle but <br/>i’m see-through too <br/>and i think this is impossible <br/>but that’s what makes it perfect <br/>that way we can’t ruin it <br/>if it never exists <br/>even though it already does <br/>i’m already real to you <br/>and you’re not just a dream anymore <br/>it’s pretty crazy <br/>how much you need me</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 6 replies </div>

kalleco 2006-01-17T01:54:38Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/5e2f2906-7642-450d-816d-51787a169f3a 2006-02-05T05:16:58Z 2006-02-03T04:08:14Z

<div>(for leo the writer, jack the poet, and julian the dream) <br/> <br/>i think you called it a “luminous display” <br/>and i thought, wow <br/>he uses real words <br/>eloquent <br/>intelligent <br/>brilliant <br/>and you were <br/>and it was <br/>a bright brilliant flash of light, of color <br/>surprising my darkening sky <br/>vibrant, alive <br/>i was alive <br/>and the intermittent bursts of fire <br/>slow and building <br/>to a crescendo <br/>of fierce furious frenzied frantic friendship <br/>sputtering out of control <br/>fantastic backdrop to a premature finale <br/> <br/>i don’t know what any of this means <br/>other than this... <br/>on the 4th of july <br/>fuses are lit <br/>they burn away, some slithering snakes <br/>some quicksand fast <br/>but all with the same fantastic result <br/>brilliance dazzling “ooh” and “ahh” <br/>unless, <br/>and this is what happened here, <br/>the fuse burns away <br/>it all unravels <br/>and then <br/>nothing <br/> <br/>(but you were there <br/>i know you saw it too) <br/>--------------------------------- <br/>“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue center light pop and everybody goes "AWWW!" <br/> <br/>"A man who allows wild passion to arise within, himself burns his heart, then after burning adds the wind that thereto which ignites the fire again, or not, as the case may be." <br/>- Jack Kerouac</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 2 replies </div>

kalleco 2006-02-03T04:08:14Z Od http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/9105b2f4-1ebb-4127-9e36-74b396b25f52 2006-02-04T02:49:15Z 2006-02-04T02:49:15Z

<div> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>1 <br/>You're a little <br/>French cartoon <br/>Jesus H. <br/>Christ! <br/>pick 'em up <br/>paste 'em on <br/>red on blue <br/>and all on a wall <br/>but everything <br/>else must <br/>be black, black -- <br/> <br/>2 <br/>my tongue's a <br/>little animal <br/>in my mouth <br/>I can <br/>bite on <br/>transcendant <br/>seashore <br/>in the mouth <br/>shouting motions, <br/>scramble <br/>scream exploding <br/>fantastic past <br/>moment <br/> <br/>3 <br/>cluster of bright <br/>clear puddles <br/>plastic water <br/>patches <br/>thick, heavy <br/>jumping spirits <br/>magical <br/>transition <br/>It's your <br/>heart <br/>it loves you <br/> <br/>4 <br/>look again <br/>it's not a <br/>picture it's <br/>a dimension <br/>of view, pushing <br/>through to a reality <br/>that really was <br/>transcendant <br/>puncture in the <br/>dimension of <br/>time <br/> <br/>5 <br/>spush! <br/>spoosh! <br/>spoooosh! <br/>press the <br/>button <br/>in the middle <br/>every limb <br/>kicks <br/>twitches spastic <br/> <br/>6 <br/>? <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/></div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Od 2006-02-04T02:49:15Z http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/6153c252-357b-400a-8a2c-4ba20949d533 2006-02-03T22:05:16Z 2006-02-02T03:42:46Z

<div>Sure, there's Ferlenghetti.... <br/>but who are your favorite bards of <br/>the beat, the beat, the beat generation <br/>that have hearts which still <br/>beat, beat, beat? <br/></div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 21 replies </div>

2006-02-02T03:42:46Z Od http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/a67eda12-df3b-4172-965e-1cf779eec5b0 2006-02-02T02:43:25Z 2006-02-01T02:37:56Z

<div> <br/>One Hundred <br/> <br/> <br/>I'm already planning <br/>For when I'm one <br/>Hundred, <br/>Eating <br/> <br/>Vanilla sugar milk <br/>With a spoon <br/>While the cat <br/>Laps drops <br/> <br/>Of water from <br/>The faucet. <br/>And Finnish <br/>Licorice <br/> <br/>Is <br/>My <br/>Only <br/>Meat</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 2 replies </div>

Od 2006-02-01T02:37:56Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/979332ce-8b91-4916-91ce-da7c722de232 2006-02-02T01:15:50Z 2006-01-30T21:49:09Z

<div>As a late birthday present, I recently received Born in the Year of the Butterfly Knife, a book of poetry by Derrick C. Brown, and I have to say that he is my new favorite poet. There's a strange depth to his work, having achieved a form of surrealism that cuts as close to the bone as anything of more obvious clarity. The absurdity, too, helps to drive in the blade until it hits that familiar wall. I am transcribing one of his poems here so others can see what I mean. This one is not necessarily my favorite, but it is certainly memorable: <br/> <br/>The Chinese Elevator <br/> <br/>He is staring at a bottle of pills big as a lamp. <br/>Brighter. <br/> <br/>He sighs a noise that comes out and sounds like ripped silk. <br/> <br/>He loves the steady drums of her headboard <br/>played by a stranger. <br/> <br/>It is the tempo and timbre of men slicing the earth with shovels. <br/> <br/>He loves knowing that she can't last a season <br/>without a new salesman knocking at her heart through her uterus. <br/> <br/>His record player has laryngitis. <br/> <br/>The telephone's tongue has been cut out. <br/> <br/>He had linked his heartbeat with hers. <br/>Now apart, when her blood races so does his. <br/> <br/>At least he finally removed the saddle from his head. <br/> <br/>Someone fair had straddled his skull, <br/>rode his dreams into the ground. <br/>He lies still in bed with his pulse, now rising <br/>touching his fingers to the sound. <br/> <br/>His mouth opens nervously and dry <br/>like young prom legs. <br/> <br/>"I still want you." <br/> <br/>...but the woman is far and pregnant <br/>with just blood. <br/> <br/>The blood is due. <br/> <br/>He removes his medical bracelet. It reads: <br/>"I left my heart in someone's veins. <br/>She bleeds Valentines once a month." <br/> <br/>She was born with backwards guts. <br/>Waltzing was miserable. <br/>Always spinning. Leading with her spine. <br/>Keeping her heart behind her. <br/> <br/>He is a Little Boy who has fallen <br/>through the clouds over Hiroshima. <br/> <br/>Lovers are on stage at the comedy club. <br/>He is a heckler who can only sob into a bullhorn. <br/> <br/>Love is a bullet that crawls on all fours <br/>He mumbles in the night with the poetry of whores <br/>Exhausted, dirty and loose. <br/> <br/>Piss of a fighter-- <br/>shit as a lover. <br/>the box he checks is other. <br/>He has the handwriting of his mother. <br/>The vanishing of his father. <br/> <br/>"We bury this now" <br/>is muttered <br/>as she unrobes <br/>for a shiny new lover. <br/> <br/>Across town he sits up in bed <br/>"O.K." he says. <br/>"you bring the dirt, <br/>I'll bring the shovels. <br/>You warn the heavens. <br/>I'll tell the others." <br/> <br/>He had grown tired of pressing his head <br/>to his lover's chest <br/>only to hear the sound of children gasping. <br/> <br/>It was her favorite love song. <br/>in harmony with the creaking of dark robots insider her. <br/> <br/>Our bed was a bad musical. <br/> <br/>He subscribes to the newspaper, <br/>looks for the black stilts of her name <br/>in the obituaries. <br/> <br/>He hangs his countenance on the wall and crawls into bed <br/>then come pills to cancel everything. <br/> <br/>He simply rode the Chinese elevator. <br/>pushed the wrong button. <br/> <br/>Someone went all the way down. <br/> <br/>--------------------------------------------- <br/> <br/>This is transcribed from the book as is, so don't blame me for the errors. If you go to www.brownpoetry.com, you can listen to his audio, read a few samples, or buy some of his books. Enjoy. <br/> <br/>And thanks, Jeneva!</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

beausoleil 2006-01-30T21:49:09Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/62570faa-797b-4dec-90c0-ff1e9812d0c4 2006-02-01T01:19:52Z 2006-02-01T00:12:36Z

<div>she is a Viking funeral <br/>forever drifting away but <br/>burning all the while <br/> <br/>we mourn but also we <br/>are glad there's nothing <br/>left to bury and all <br/>debts are cleared <br/> <br/>I used to make crop <br/>circles in her pubic <br/>hair with my fingers <br/> <br/>she was a skeptic <br/>and didn't notice <br/> <br/>black ink lines <br/>define my face <br/> <br/>the shadows almost <br/>have texture <br/>but we always slip past <br/>into the light of <br/>another room <br/> <br/>with insides this <br/>cut up, we wrap <br/>everything in ribbons <br/> <br/>surprise! is this <br/>what you wanted? <br/> <br/>I've never been <br/>good with seasons <br/> <br/>I've lived and loved <br/>through two dozen <br/>summers and each <br/>one felt like my <br/>first taste of sweat <br/> <br/>how many times have <br/>I watched you cry <br/>and didn't believe you? <br/> <br/>if surrealism <br/>liberates the sub- <br/>conscious, owls <br/>speak spherical and <br/>I just let you go <br/> <br/>gripped by yellow <br/>stalks, you are <br/>dangled beneath <br/>the moon and a <br/>silent headdress <br/> <br/>bon voyage, bright <br/>alive and orange thing <br/> <br/>I hope the soul <br/>left before your flesh <br/>caught flame</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 2 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-02-01T00:12:36Z BuffaloBill http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/78fd6051-a030-4d93-be9d-037f4a5ec4dd 2006-01-30T00:41:21Z 2006-01-29T23:30:28Z

<div>akashic ancestors answer all <br/>ancient illusion encapsulates everything <br/>objects orbiting orbs obviously <br/>outside objects obliviously obliterated <br/>space shanked time <br/>revealing reality outside of mind <br/>seeing self secretly mine <br/>seeking soul, secluded i hide <br/>kundalini slowly streaches up spine <br/>shimmering serpent lights up insides <br/>shadows shifting in the twilight <br/>stars offer darkness slivers of light <br/>showering down eternal insight <br/> <br/>i've almost escaped this bubble but not quite... <br/> <br/>accepting evolution as my divine quest <br/>learning through suffering, humanity's test <br/>keeping true knowledge, ignoring the rest <br/>using every moment to become my best <br/>helping others to rise above <br/>with the eternal power of love...</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

BuffaloBill 2006-01-29T23:30:28Z http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/c33d670b-4761-4e75-a164-9ff814456b15 2006-01-29T04:39:02Z 2006-01-29T04:39:02Z

<div>The Illusion that held me under <br/>has released me to a different view <br/>a different pace /a different face <br/>the sun is different(it shines brighter) <br/>But blinds me as usual <br/>put on my raybans <br/>But still did not see a damn thing a head of me <br/>all the fog has lifted away /open to all the damage <br/>forever set in time (another myth)</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

2006-01-29T04:39:02Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/7987251b-254c-40d9-82ab-bba81bd17a27 2006-01-29T03:20:58Z 2006-01-29T01:37:27Z

<div>(inspired by a friend who was disappointed today, by another friend who, in turn, disappointed me today, and by the lines from garrett's poem "i am a stupid, /stupid man /but she /is patient") <br/> <br/>i showed up late <br/>that’s the first thing i did wrong <br/>(or maybe the fact that i showed up at all <br/>when you never have time to see me, <br/>maybe that was the first thing) <br/>but about that-- <br/>you’re the best, right? <br/>you can fix me <br/>you are worth the wait <br/>so in the meantime <br/>i will sit here <br/>leaf through the magazines <br/>and read about politics, home improvement, <br/>and celebrities’ babies <br/>which is all very useful information <br/>this trip has already been worth it, wouldn’t you say? <br/>no, i know what you’d say <br/>you’d apologize for being so busy <br/>but reassure me that you care very deeply about my well-being <br/>my happiness means a lot to you <br/>except, can i interrupt you for a minute, <br/>because YOU make me happy <br/>so if what you say is true <br/>and you want me to be happy <br/>then why don’t you just let me in <br/>or why don’t you just come out? <br/>it’s very confusing--that and <br/>how i keep coming to you for help <br/>when you’re the disease that’s taken hold <br/>that i need to be cured of <br/>but that is why i’m here <br/>who better to fix me <br/>than the person who infected me in the first place? <br/>you must know the antidote <br/>because you don’t seem to be suffering at all <br/>so i will wait for that <br/>besides, i want to ask why you have so many rules <br/>for a waiting room you never enter <br/>no cell phones--why? <br/>are you afraid i might call someone else for help <br/>are you afraid someone might call me <br/>and tell me to get the hell out of here <br/>can’t i see what i’m doing to myself? <br/>which obviously i can’t and that is why i’m-- <br/>wait! wait a minute! <br/>you just let her in and she only just got here! <br/>do you know how long i’ve been waiting? <br/>i don’t even think she had an appointment <br/>she’s a fucking walk-in <br/>but her, you’ll see? <br/>she has what you’re looking for? <br/>or maybe not <br/>maybe she’s just not me <br/>i bet you think this will get rid of me <br/>any other person would get the hint <br/>and just find another waiting room <br/>perhaps one with a receptionist <br/>and background music <br/>but i’ve already told you <br/>i’m waiting for you <br/>i’ve been here so long <br/>there’s no point in leaving now</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 3 replies </div>

kalleco 2006-01-29T01:37:27Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/9e5868fe-b920-4b9c-9050-6320ab51ea0e 2006-01-28T01:10:23Z 2006-01-27T21:00:02Z

<div>earthbride whistling <br/>crystal winds <br/>pistolwhipping <br/>domebone to <br/>receptive jelly <br/> <br/>i am a stupid, <br/>stupid man <br/> <br/>but she <br/>is patient <br/> <br/>ferocious, <br/>as such <br/> <br/>green bud sparkles <br/>larval harkers of <br/>salad day gospel <br/>chaos spells sigils <br/>sizzling vigilant <br/>in a real sense <br/>glistening the <br/>bugs in your brain <br/>always listening <br/> <br/>even in the <br/>spacetime stagger <br/> <br/>there is one <br/>thing to hold you <br/> <br/>she is firm and <br/>she is brown <br/> <br/>earthmother syzygy <br/>is the basis for <br/>male empathy our <br/>sleepy seeds <br/>sprouting in her <br/>mouth singing <br/>beautiful worlds <br/>into existence and <br/>i tell you this: <br/> <br/>this is all foreplay <br/>of the pineal gland <br/> <br/>until i make endless <br/>love in that soft hole <br/> <br/>in the ground where <br/>i shall be kept</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 11 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-01-27T21:00:02Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/b5fe55c5-6218-4ce1-930b-6dbb963e7164 2006-01-25T10:16:37Z 2006-01-25T07:28:48Z

<div>don’t come back tomorrow <br/>you stupid fish <br/>swimming round and round <br/>in your perfect tank <br/>where you don’t even pay rent <br/>where you don’t have to worry <br/>so you actually have time <br/>to stop swimming and listen <br/>to me once in a while <br/>but you keep swimming <br/>and growing <br/>to fit the tank <br/>and you don’t remember <br/>what was wrong 30 seconds ago <br/>and i’d be mad <br/>if i thought you did it on purpose <br/>but you’re just a fish <br/>it’s not that you don’t care <br/>it’s that you can’t <br/>not for all the minutes i need anyway <br/>and everyone asks, <br/>how’s the fish? <br/>does he like the new tank? <br/>oh he’s so pretty <br/>and golden <br/>and perfect <br/>and i’m like, enough about the stupid fish <br/>why do you care so much about a fish <br/>that never cared about you <br/>when i’m right here <br/>RIGHT HERE <br/>with real feelings and words and thoughts <br/>about things outside of that tank <br/>things that last <br/>talk to me <br/>but you just ask, <br/>what do you feed him? <br/>will you get another one? <br/>he’s the most perfect fish <br/>and i just want to flush you down the toilet <br/>or give you to a cat <br/>or let someone swallow you on a bet <br/>because you’re a stupid fish <br/>and you just keep swimming <br/>while i drown</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

kalleco 2006-01-25T07:28:48Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/e117b49f-bb05-49ad-9435-88c4879c113b 2006-01-25T03:03:41Z 2006-01-24T06:43:11Z

<div>I spent a wonderful day <br/>with two real Dutch ladies <br/>in postcard outfits <br/>in front of a pleasant house <br/>with a brown tiled roof <br/>and a brick facade with blue windows <br/>not thinking about poetry, music, <br/>movies, paintings, priests or nuns, <br/> <br/>or you. <br/> <br/>--Jim Carroll</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 2 replies </div>

kalleco 2006-01-24T06:43:11Z torwebster http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/3c0418d0-bfcb-4f15-ad06-b1df89a55153 2006-01-22T15:19:49Z 2006-01-16T22:46:09Z

<div>Plonker <br/>18.12.00 <br/>By Tor Webster <br/> <br/>I’m no word smith just spiritual lyrical, <br/>My mind sight is my hindsight, <br/>And my third eye purely hysterical, <br/>What words don’t concur, <br/>My hilarity utters “you Plonker!” <br/> <br/>I’m a Jessabelle with a bad smell, <br/>I’m a Romeo with an in growing toe nail, <br/>I am nothing you think, <br/>But what has been thought has been sought by <br/>A self effacing deliberating, self hating, <br/>Owneristic word masturbating Plonker. <br/> <br/>So listen up, when I say the world is no fuck up, <br/>Just your mind trap is the mishap, <br/>And your too slack for a piss up, <br/>As it turns into a throw up, <br/>You dance badly at the disco, <br/>And your girlfriend says “lets go!” <br/>You just say “no!” <br/>So she does so, your just a Plonker. <br/> <br/>Your mind sight wasn’t thought through right, <br/>Your night was just shite, <br/>You’re a PLONKER. <br/> <br/></div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 3 replies </div>

torwebster 2006-01-16T22:46:09Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/2004ca91-e07c-4b58-b7e2-d36841474b22 2006-01-21T03:50:57Z 2006-01-21T03:50:57Z

<div>(based on the quote "Friends come in and out of your life like busboys in a restaurant.") <br/> <br/>today <br/>you went away <br/> <br/>i saw it coming <br/>i saw you going <br/>and i helped you along <br/> <br/>but are you coming back <br/> <br/>because i’ll still be here <br/>watching everyone come and go <br/>and go <br/>and <br/>go <br/> <br/>i didn’t really see this coming <br/>i just said that so you would go <br/> <br/>but you can still come back <br/> <br/>even if you just go away again <br/>tomorrow</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

kalleco 2006-01-21T03:50:57Z Atomic http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/fbfb0036-b427-44b0-ac62-636de39ad8f3 2006-01-18T21:05:24Z 2006-01-18T01:01:18Z

<div>... inspired in part by Kalleco's last posting... <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>"last-call" <br/> <br/> <br/>the woman you <br/>know <br/>will most likely <br/>change <br/>your life to a <br/>warped <br/>amusement park <br/>and <br/>you can't wait to <br/>buy <br/>the ticket while <br/>knowing <br/>the rides aren't <br/>safe <br/>and eventually you're <br/>sure <br/>to vomit on the <br/>pavement <br/>in front of <br/>everyone <br/>from a bad <br/>corndog... <br/> <br/> <br/>let's do it again. <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>2005 by ATB</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 4 replies </div>

Atomic 2006-01-18T01:01:18Z http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/4e7a834c-8cc2-4c50-8a4c-6c95c16507a7 2006-01-18T20:38:28Z 2006-01-17T03:27:07Z

<div>its all like this /running <br/>kicked in the ass/oh my god <br/>hello/kick me/love me <br/>dead in the alley of ashes <br/>pick it up/but don't go there <br/>escape is so useless/but I'm leaving <br/>and it seems like life/their all out to get me <br/>ahhhh its like this/ help me <br/>she ran into the streets/what you doing? <br/>just a drunk idiot !/ beeping that horn <br/>the red one/ can you hear them? <br/>get the hint?/its all like this! <br/>misfit/give me that/stop your bitchin <br/>I'm not here/my name is jacob <br/>climbing this ladder/my brother always has to go <br/>stop/ for real/look at your friggin selves <br/>different things/its all like this <br/>I can't do it/never did nothing <br/>just like first grade stepping back/whats new <br/>just repeat -repeat -repeat <br/>one doll/ and old clothes/on the floor <br/>spitting on the grave of babylon <br/>holding her open for the maggots <br/>I'm shy/ kiss me harder/hate me bitch <br/>its all like this <br/>stop holding me against the world/the pillow slides <br/>do you wanna strike the bad dreamer?/or just repeat? <br/>fallen star/theres no beat/theres no sense <br/>broken cello on a dirty floor <br/>this son also rises/what a friggin mess <br/>its all like this/.do I have to obey? <br/>the honey bee/I'm so shy/ you can hold me <br/>just let me cry/Vishnu's anger blinds me <br/>its all/its all like this........................... <br/></div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 5 replies </div>

2006-01-17T03:27:07Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/b8976c66-4afe-417c-b16c-0f1c3289e54b 2006-01-15T23:59:09Z 2006-01-11T04:10:48Z

<div>what do you want anyway? <br/> <br/>i just want <br/>to be <br/>good <br/>to be what you want <br/>what someone wants <br/>to want <br/>to be good <br/>or to be someone <br/>that’s good enough <br/>for me <br/> <br/>straight A straight arrow <br/>not a teacher’s pet <br/>since that requires some care and attention <br/>but good enough to be scorned by <br/>all the right kids <br/>who’s the grownup here? <br/>who’s taking care of you? me? <br/>young for my age <br/>on the outside <br/>hardened and weary insides <br/>good enough to weather the storm of you <br/>battering everything everyone in your path <br/>i can get rid of the evidence the destruction <br/>but i can’t get rid of you <br/>because your hate is my hate <br/>your blood is my blood <br/>your mistake was me <br/> <br/>i can’t <br/>be good <br/>for you <br/>because <br/>i can’t <br/>be good <br/>at all <br/> <br/>why isn’t it me?</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 4 replies </div>

kalleco 2006-01-11T04:10:48Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/a3768918-619b-4c43-a69d-510f3ccc9dbf 2006-01-15T20:22:17Z 2006-01-12T02:58:12Z

<div>you only hear what you want to hear <br/>read between the lines i haven’t written <br/>but i’m not as clever as you think <br/>if you even think about me at all <br/>which i think you don’t <br/>since you’ve already decided me <br/>judged and determined <br/>which could be for the best <br/>since i always say too much <br/>care too much <br/>feel too much <br/>and if you’d waited to know me <br/>and listened to what i say <br/>or better yet, to what i mean <br/>then you’d know i’m <br/>too awkward <br/>maybe too shy <br/>too much of a dreamer <br/>for your nonfiction library <br/>and i can’t find the words to make you understand <br/>that i’m already too involved <br/>in an imaginary world <br/>where you hang on my every word <br/>and i can write myself out <br/>of a mess like this</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 2 replies </div>

kalleco 2006-01-12T02:58:12Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/2d84b31f-be37-4bfb-9b3a-9d9cc8b24fb4 2006-01-15T20:17:49Z 2006-01-14T20:49:30Z

<div>The littlest goat <br/>(of course it's always the small one) <br/>spoke first: <br/>Take me, if you want, <br/>but for God's sake, watch out for those steps. <br/> <br/>To which the man replied, <br/>all you goats can stay or go but no one <br/>takes the flowers. <br/> <br/>I guess that's the way it is with goats.</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

kalleco 2006-01-14T20:49:30Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/327e391c-c665-441e-b3d4-6675def2d31d 2006-01-12T06:10:03Z 2006-01-10T09:04:54Z

<div>smoke passes <br/>through me <br/> <br/>moonlight archetypes <br/>brothers and <br/>sisters of <br/>the soul <br/>sense whispering <br/> <br/>you're never <br/>too far <br/>from home <br/> <br/>wherever you <br/>may roam <br/> <br/>language she <br/>grips with <br/>the cilia <br/>of her <br/>lips pressed <br/>to structures <br/>sinking in <br/>our seas <br/> <br/>only water <br/>passes through <br/> <br/>and only <br/>the water <br/>is you <br/> <br/>sympathy swells <br/>as the <br/>last waves <br/>fell and <br/>a new <br/>stillness serenades <br/>the night <br/> <br/>whatever love <br/>should command <br/> <br/>I find <br/>at the <br/>edge of <br/>the sand</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 3 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-01-10T09:04:54Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/9bf920da-9474-4355-9bdc-63b50087b18f 2006-01-08T03:33:41Z 2006-01-08T02:10:20Z

<div>the lizards <br/>wept at dawn <br/>for great <br/>rainbows of <br/>fire and <br/>freedom <br/> <br/>while the <br/>Hunab Ku <br/>kids played <br/>in darkness <br/>beneath the <br/>leaves</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

beausoleil 2006-01-08T02:10:20Z beausoleil http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/a629c466-b1f9-47a1-9d05-45f4d2b307c5 2006-01-02T23:45:43Z 2006-01-02T23:45:43Z

<div>warmth and wizardry <br/>heart sutra suitcase <br/>laughter traveling <br/>back after unraveling <br/>backbones with <br/>resonant tones of <br/>AUM's vibrational <br/>poem in scenes <br/>daydreams uncombed <br/>and locked the lion <br/>of the lotus laughing <br/>below us a beast's <br/>best jazz swirling <br/>fur lingering worlds <br/>vulnerable real and <br/>raw reaching into <br/>bleeding hues of my <br/>third eye's sea of <br/>fiery irie golden <br/>spires bleed seep <br/>seething green things <br/>as nature nurtures <br/>the starsearchers <br/>the heartsearchers <br/>the Anahatha trips <br/>singing sipping on <br/>the gone, gone, so <br/>far gone, all the <br/>way gone to the <br/>living, breathing <br/>shores of another <br/>soul, so let go <br/>in the sun's glow <br/>the beholder lies <br/>in the eyes of <br/>beauty's eternal <br/>surprise</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

beausoleil 2006-01-02T23:45:43Z asailboat http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/24a397ce-125a-41b4-8f25-ba8d1a632e18 2005-12-30T11:47:04Z 2005-12-29T06:27:06Z

<div> twisted at misty the habits just hit me quick as they come i am gone <br/>long drwan out song to tweetle to, <br/>dumbdumbdumbdumb <br/>i like how the dee and bee colide <br/>concious to the tickling at my toes and my noes smells something sweet and it lingers. <br/>fingers collecting at the bones my tone is earth brown. <br/>down around my eyes pour frowns <br/>the meeting street cleaning at four fifteen and the sun is still underground <br/>shadows and bright clowns and earthquakes and buddha dreams inside my closet alone. <br/>the gallery is closed and no one watches the doorframe <br/>eht ned dyslicic <br/> <br/>----------------- <br/> <br/>the nomes no no <br/>grow how slow <br/>a hundred years and i puke <br/>cause i don't care. <br/> <br/>------ <br/> <br/> <br/>sitting on fists of morining bliss i missed the kiss the night should have left, <br/>instead of whats right i stood out all night my mind will ignight and burn down the sight <br/>a crime of confusion, oh doctor dilsloutioun was the controbution that broke the weak camles back. <br/>racked all but senceless I attack when i'm restless and to my defencess i'm cute, and aloof. <br/>the spoof on life the mad mans side i step in a glide with pride, piss off. <br/>find fourtiouns a foot and feet in my mouth and this is my spout that i'm spewing. <br/>aluding to what, becides the missed bus my fists and sleve cuffs cumbust. <br/>crumbs and bread cover my head what's more to be said theres more to be blead form my juice. <br/>convay and collide headbuts are my bride and my skull fucks a pain inside. <br/>a dance with the devil with the trebel turned down the bace puffs my face insideout. <br/>clout couldn't cover what's been uncovered and no mother could smother but sisters and brothers could look away. <br/>strange days, <br/>the phrase at the end. <br/>my friends. <br/>jim who? <br/> <br/>-------</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

asailboat 2005-12-29T06:27:06Z Atomic http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/c74028db-7439-4ed2-96c5-4f06e71f8329 2005-12-30T09:32:30Z 2005-12-12T20:36:14Z

<div> <br/>"a non-urgent poem" <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>I had this fellow write me that <br/>he felt there wasn't the <br/>"urgency" in my poems <br/>of the present <br/>as compared to my poems <br/>of the past. <br/> <br/>now, if this is true <br/>why did he write me <br/>about it? <br/>have I made his days <br/>more <br/>incomplete? <br/>it's <br/>possible. <br/> <br/>well, I too have felt <br/>let down <br/>by writers <br/>I once thought were <br/>powerful <br/>or <br/>at least <br/>very damned <br/>good <br/>but <br/>I never considered <br/>writing them to <br/>inform them that I <br/>sensed their <br/>demise. <br/>I found the best thing <br/>I could do <br/>was just to type away <br/>at my own work <br/>and let the dying <br/>die <br/>as they always <br/>have. <br/> <br/> <br/>C. Bukowski, from "YOU GET SO ALONE AT TIMES THAT IT JUST MAKES SENSE", copyright 1986 <br/></div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 3 replies </div>

Atomic 2005-12-12T20:36:14Z gypsygirllll http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/72d7c33b-6c60-45ff-b757-8485b8829c5e 2005-12-30T09:28:06Z 2005-12-12T19:55:10Z

<div>I read this today for the first time!.. WOW! <br/> <br/>O, We Are The Outcasts <br/> <br/> ah, christ, what a CREW: <br/>more <br/>poetry, always more <br/>P O E T R Y . <br/> <br/>if it doesn't come, coax it out with a <br/>laxative. get your name in LIGHTS, <br/>get it up there in <br/>8 1/2 x 11 mimeo. <br/> <br/>keep it coming like a miracle. <br/> <br/>ah christ, writers are the most sickening <br/>of all the louts! <br/>yellow-toothed, slump-shouldered, <br/>gutless, flea-bitten and <br/>obvious . . . in tinker-toy rooms <br/>with their flabby hearts <br/>they tell us <br/>what's wrong with the world- <br/>as if we didn't know that a cop's club <br/>can crack the head <br/>and that war is a dirtier game than <br/>marriage . . . <br/>or down in a basement bar <br/>hiding from a wife who doesn't appreciate him <br/>and children he doesn't <br/>want <br/>he tells us that his heart is drowning in <br/>vomit. hell, all our hearts are drowning in vomit, <br/>in pork salt, in bad verse, in soggy <br/>love. <br/>but he thinks he's alone and <br/>he thinks he's special and he thinks he's Rimbaud <br/>and he thinks he's <br/>Pound. <br/> <br/>and death! how about death? did you know <br/>that we all have to die? even Keats died, even <br/>Milton! <br/>and D. Thomas-THEY KILLED HIM, of course. <br/>Thomas didn't want all those free drinks <br/>all that free pussy- <br/>they . . . FORCED IT ON HIM <br/>when they should have left him alone so he could <br/>write write WRITE! <br/> <br/>poets. <br/> <br/>and there's another <br/>type. I've met them at their country <br/>places (don't ask me what I was doing there because <br/>I don't know). <br/> <br/>they were born with money and <br/>they don't have to dirty their hands in <br/>slaughterhouses or washing <br/>dishes in grease joints or <br/>driving cabs or pimping or selling pot. <br/> <br/>this gives them time to understand <br/>Life. <br/> <br/>they walk in with their cocktail glass <br/>held about heart high <br/>and when they drink they just <br/>sip. <br/> <br/>you are drinking green beer which you <br/>brought with you <br/>because you have found out through the years <br/>that rich bastards are tight- <br/>they use 5 cent stamps instead of airmail <br/>they promise to have all sorts of goodies ready <br/>upon your arrival <br/>from gallons of whisky to <br/>50 cent cigars. but it's never <br/>there. <br/>and they HIDE their women from you- <br/>their wives, x-wives, daughters, maids, so forth, <br/>because they've read your poems and <br/>figure all you want to do is fuck everybody and <br/>everything. which once might have been <br/>true but is no longer quite <br/>true. <br/> <br/>and- <br/>he WRITES TOO. <br/>POETRY, of <br/>course. everybody <br/>writes <br/>poetry. <br/> <br/>he has plenty of time and a <br/>postoffice box in town <br/>and he drives there 3 or 4 times a day <br/>looking and hoping for accepted <br/>poems. <br/> <br/>he thinks that poverty is a weakness of the <br/>soul. <br/> <br/>he thinks your mind is ill because you are <br/>drunk all the time and have to work in a <br/>factory 10 or 12 hours a <br/>night. <br/> <br/>he brings his wife in, a beauty, stolen from a <br/>poorer rich <br/>man. <br/>he lets you gaze for 30 seconds <br/>then hustles her <br/>out. she has been crying for some <br/>reason. <br/> <br/>you've got 3 or 4 days to linger in the <br/>guesthouse he says, <br/>"come on over to dinner <br/>sometime." <br/>but he doesn't say when or <br/>where. and then you find out that you are not even <br/>IN HIS HOUSE. <br/> <br/>you are in <br/>ONE of his houses but <br/>his house is somewhere <br/>else- <br/>you don't know <br/>where. <br/> <br/>he even has x-wives in some of his <br/>houses. <br/> <br/>his main concern is to keep his x-wives away from <br/>you. he doesn't want to give up a <br/>damn thing. and you can't blame him: <br/>his x-wives are all young, stolen, kept, <br/>talented, well-dressed, schooled, with <br/>varying French-German accents. <br/> <br/>and!: they <br/>WRITE POETRY TOO. or <br/>PAINT. or <br/>fuck. <br/> <br/>but his big problem is to get down to that mail <br/>box in town to get back his <br/>rejected poems <br/>and to keep his eye on all the other mail boxes <br/>in all his other <br/>houses. <br/> <br/>meanwhile, the starving Indians <br/>sell beads and baskets in the streets of the small desert <br/>town. <br/> <br/>the Indians are not allowed in his houses <br/>not so much because they are a fuck-threat <br/>but because they are <br/>dirty and <br/>ignorant. dirty? I look down at my shirt <br/>with the beerstain on the front. <br/>ignorant? I light a 6 cent cigar and <br/>forget about <br/>it. <br/> <br/>he or they or somebody was supposed to meet me at <br/>the <br/>train station. <br/> <br/>of course, they weren't <br/>there. "We'll be there to meet the great <br/>Poet!" <br/> <br/>well, I looked around and didn't see any <br/>great poet. besides it was 7 a.m. and <br/>40 degrees. those things <br/>happen. the trouble was there were no <br/>bars open. nothing open. not even a <br/>jail. <br/> <br/>he's a poet. <br/>he's also a doctor, a head-shrinker. <br/>no blood involved that <br/>way. he won't tell me whether I am crazy or <br/>not-I don't have the <br/>money. <br/> <br/>he walks out with his cocktail glass <br/>disappears for 2 hours, 3 hours, <br/>then suddenly comes walking back in <br/>unannounced <br/>with the same cocktail glass <br/>to make sure I haven't gotten hold of <br/>something more precious than <br/>Life itself. <br/> <br/>my cheap green beer is killing <br/>me. he shows heart (hurrah) and <br/>gives me a little pill that stops my <br/>gagging. <br/>but nothing decent to <br/>drink. <br/> <br/>he'd bought a small 6 pack <br/>for my arrival but that was gone in an <br/>hour and 15 <br/>minutes. <br/> <br/>"I'll buy you barrels of beer," he had <br/>said. <br/> <br/>I used his phone (one of his phones) <br/>to get deliveries of beer and <br/>cheap whisky. the town was ten miles away, <br/>downhill. I peeled my poor dollars from my poor <br/>roll. and the boy needed a tip, of <br/>course. <br/> <br/>the way it was shaping up I could see that I was <br/>hardly Dylan Thomas yet, not even <br/>Robert Creeley. certainly Creeley wouldn't have <br/>had beerstains on his <br/>shirt. <br/> <br/>anyhow, when I finally got hold of one of his <br/>x-wives I was too drunk to <br/>make it. <br/> <br/>scared too. sure, I imagined him peering <br/>through the window- <br/>he didn't want to give up a damn thing- <br/>and <br/>leveling the luger while I was <br/>working <br/>while "The March to the Gallows" was playing over <br/>the Muzak <br/>and shooting me in the ass first and <br/>my poor brain <br/>later. <br/> <br/>"an intruder," I could hear him telling them, <br/>"ravishing one of my helpless x-wives." <br/> <br/>I see him published in some of the magazines <br/>now. not very good stuff. <br/> <br/>a poem about me <br/>too: the Polack. <br/> <br/>the Polack whines too much. the Polack whines about his <br/>country, other countries, all countries, the Polack <br/>works overtime in a factory like a fool, among other <br/>fools with "pre-drained spirits." <br/>the Polack drinks seas of green beer <br/>full of acid. the Polack has an ulcerated <br/>hemorrhoid. the Polack picks on fags <br/>"fragile fags." the Polack hates his <br/>wife, hates his daughter. his daughter will become <br/>an alcoholic, a prostitute. the Polack has an <br/>"obese burned out wife." the Polack has a <br/>spastic gut. the Polack has a <br/>"rectal brain." <br/> <br/>thank you, Doctor (and poet). any charge for <br/>this? I know I still owe you for the <br/>pill. <br/> <br/>Your poem is not too good <br/>but at least I got your starch up. <br/>most of your stuff is about as lively as a <br/>wet and deflated <br/>beachball. but it is your round, you've won a round. <br/>going to invite me out this <br/>Summer? I might scrape up <br/>trainfare. got an Indian friend who'd like to meet <br/>you and yours. he swears he's got the biggest <br/>pecker in the state of California. <br/> <br/>and guess what? <br/>he writes <br/>POETRY <br/>too! <br/> <br/>Charles Bukowski </div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 3 replies </div>

gypsygirllll 2005-12-12T19:55:10Z http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/867e3110-046b-4717-8ba2-abf34c859579 2005-12-28T20:26:38Z 2005-12-28T20:26:38Z

<div>i prefer <br/>long kisses with tastebuds <br/>arching into mine <br/>like this <br/> <br/>i prefer guys <br/>with a few leftovers <br/>some cellulite covering stone-muscle <br/>with tangible, pillowlike shouldernooks <br/>like this <br/> <br/>i prefer warm-wet summers <br/>cool-dry winters <br/>avocadoes the size of my head <br/>my pb and j sandwiches <br/>folded <br/>not cut <br/> <br/>and being bearhugged,like this <br/>so that when i get up to leave <br/>you're the orange and im peeling <br/>like this <br/> <br/>off you as though ive always been <br/>pasted, giggling buoyant <br/>like this <br/> <br/>at home <br/>like this. <br/> <br/>could you <br/>move your finger <br/>a little higher. <br/>(to my girlfriend button) <br/>there. right there. <br/>like...that. </div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

2005-12-28T20:26:38Z kalleco http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/755daf8d-3100-460b-a266-6f134221b3d5 2005-12-24T19:45:06Z 2005-11-29T01:18:51Z

<div>This is one of my favorites by Jim Carroll. <br/> <br/>Sure... <br/> <br/>I got <br/>a syringe <br/> <br/>I use it <br/>to baste <br/>my tiny turkey</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

kalleco 2005-11-29T01:18:51Z Atomic http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/afb12dc8-3605-4f69-9d83-a542decbb92a 2005-12-24T19:30:51Z 2005-12-24T19:30:51Z

<div>(I'm using underscores to duplicate the exact piece...) <br/> <br/> <br/>Notes After Blacking Out <br/> <br/> <br/>Lady of the legless world I have <br/>___refused to go beyond self-dissappearance <br/>I'm in the thin man's bed knowing my legs <br/>___kept to me by a cold fresh air <br/>Useless and not useless this meaning <br/>All is answerable I need not know the answer <br/>Poetry is seeking the answer <br/>Joy is in knowing there is an answer <br/>Death is knowing the answer <br/>(That faint glow in the belly of Enlightment <br/>_______is the dead spouting their answers) <br/>Queen of cripples the younger no longer <br/>_______seem necessary <br/>The old are secretive about their Know <br/>They are constant additions to this big <br/>_______unauthorized lie <br/>Yet Truth's author itself is nothingness <br/>And though I make it vital that nothingness <br/>_______itself will collapse <br/>There is nothing. <br/>Nothing ever was <br/>Nothing is a house never bought <br/>Nothing comes after this wildbright Joke <br/>Nothing sits on nothing in a nothing of many nothings <br/>_______a nothing king. <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>Gregory Corso, 1959 </div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Atomic 2005-12-24T19:30:51Z Atomic http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/99792f36-afd8-4fbf-b8a1-f751bab288e1 2005-12-23T18:44:56Z 2005-12-22T21:10:23Z

<div>Hey everyone - - my friend Rebecca has asked me to take over the moderator duties for her tribe as she has a lot going on right now. As a fan of Beat-style poetry, I look forward to reading some juicy posts here and further developing my own brand of whatever-the-hell-it-is-I-do; ultimately I'd love members to get into some serious critiques of the work of others - - I know that I write with the intent to publish, but whatever the reason is that you're here, keep having fun with it! <br/> <br/>Sincerely, your D'Rator, <br/>Atomictoiletbrush</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 2 replies </div>

Atomic 2005-12-22T21:10:23Z Atomic http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/5b267c63-0097-4760-923d-f9ab23b28a7c 2005-12-21T04:54:21Z 2005-12-21T04:54:21Z

<div> <br/> <br/> <br/>“for the love of echoes” <br/> <br/> <br/>you are a ghost <br/>that brings roiling raw sensation <br/>as its greeting, <br/>making choices of temperament <br/>based upon a glance or <br/>a perceived attitude or <br/>a belly full of liquor (or <br/>the lack or aftermath thereof) or <br/>a state of affairs not your own or <br/>some other such forces of nature... <br/> <br/>you are a ghost <br/>that juggles friendly greetings <br/>with fragmentation grenades; <br/>i have no longer the endurance of spirit <br/>to take either <br/>the smile or the shrapnel... <br/> <br/>i attempt <br/>to keep away and safe from corruption <br/>behind my iron doors fused shut <br/>the best moments shared with you; <br/>the moments that still <br/>touch me <br/>tenderly, <br/>bringing a natural and open smile <br/>with a lingering of <br/>free unchecked and beautiful laughter... <br/> <br/>yet these are ghosts as well, <br/>echoes, <br/>all the while fading <br/>as echoes do. <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>2003 by ATB</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Atomic 2005-12-21T04:54:21Z gypsygirllll http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/d8863bf5-35a5-47f7-b44c-1ca5c3218030 2005-12-15T19:05:41Z 2005-12-02T01:20:43Z

<div>Innocent Passion <br/>ca Moore <br/> <br/>she innocently learned <br/>passion, <br/>lustful passion; <br/>feared desire, <br/>sin... <br/>lost in love, <br/>or was it vulgarity? <br/>oh the pleasures <br/>of delight, <br/>the hot pleasures <br/>of the night.</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 1 reply </div>

gypsygirllll 2005-12-02T01:20:43Z Atomic http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/293ad523-17c4-4d69-a2b8-c8dcac760269 2005-12-14T03:03:15Z 2005-12-14T03:03:15Z

<div> <br/> <br/> <br/>"W.W.K.D." <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>she's been a Hari Krishna for a year and a half. <br/>each work day, she awakes at five a.m., <br/>leaves her Hollywood apartment at six, and drives <br/>to the Krishna Center in West Los Angeles, <br/>where she eats her vegan breakfast and prays, <br/>then to work, at Malaysia Airlines by ten. <br/> <br/> <br/>(first postcard, titled "Dhobi Ghat, Mumbai, India", <br/>addressed to mother: "I'm in India. It's hot. Lots of <br/>cows, dogs, and poor people. Martha") <br/> <br/> <br/>Sunday she's at the Center at six p.m., <br/>prays, listens to a specially selected speaker <br/>expounding on the belief system of Krishna, <br/>and after, joins the free "all you can eat feast", <br/>then drives home; I don't know about Saturday. <br/> <br/> <br/>(second postcard, titled "Prince of Wales Museum, Mumbai, India", <br/>addressed to daughter: "Hi. I'm in India. Hot. Lot's of rickshaws, <br/>cows in the road, dogs, monkeys, poor people. Dusty. No toiletpaper. <br/>The coffee is bad. No good restaurants. Bed at Temple is very hard. <br/>Hare Krishna, Mom") <br/> <br/> <br/>she gets flight benefits from her airline job, <br/>where she quotes fares all day from a computer screen; <br/>this time she decided on Mumbai, India, <br/>to stay for a week at the Temple, for free. <br/>her ticket cost thirty-eight dollars, round trip. <br/> <br/> <br/>(postcard three, titled "Gateway of India, Mumbai, India", <br/>addressed to favorite bar: "Cows in the road. Dogs and Monkeys. <br/>Lots of poor people. Can't wait to get home. Martha") <br/> <br/> <br/>i stayed at her place while she was gone, <br/>and watched her obese male cat, "Banshee", <br/>this concurring with my need to "couch-surf"; <br/>upon her return, i expected stories <br/>of discovery and enlightenment from this trek <br/>totalling thirty-thousand miles, to the birthplace <br/>of her newly-found five-thousand year old religion. <br/> <br/> <br/>(postcard four, titled "Flora Fountain, Mumbai, India", <br/>addressed to me: "Here I am in India. NO-ONE SPEAKS ANY ENGLISH! <br/>No-one has any money. Ran out of my cigarettes. <br/>Lots of cows, dogs, monkeys, and rickshaws - <br/>we MUST talk when I get home! Love, Martha") <br/> <br/> <br/>i read her unmailed postcards, <br/>found exposed in an open suitcase, <br/>while she washed off the grit of her journey. <br/>that night, after a miserable travelogue, <br/>talk turned toward my personal plans; <br/>she admitted that after a "brief inner-struggle", <br/>she was sure - - though not a "devotee", <br/>Krishna would surely want me to stay. <br/>and "perhaps", she said, "visit the Center"... <br/> <br/> <br/>"What Would Krishna Do"... INDEED. <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>2003 by ATB</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Atomic 2005-12-14T03:03:15Z gypsygirllll http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/f86a0c43-70f0-408c-aa5f-5922b93f051e 2005-12-14T02:20:16Z 2005-12-12T20:06:29Z

<div>Here is one inspired by Bukowski. <br/> <br/>On Being Dirty <br/>ca Moore <br/> <br/>Being a dirty poet is the best kind of poet. <br/>What can be more interesting then filth? <br/>The last time I wrote a good poem, <br/>it contained the words, fuck, whore and pussy. <br/>And I was proud <br/>and I was dirty <br/>and I am a poet.</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 8 replies </div>

gypsygirllll 2005-12-12T20:06:29Z Atomic http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/62aa6401-270c-4934-984b-a831100fbde6 2005-12-13T19:03:40Z 2005-12-13T19:03:40Z

<div> <br/> <br/>“Columbus had days like this...” <br/> <br/> <br/>sometimes it seems <br/>like nothing has any substance; <br/>you can eat a package <br/>of turkey dogs <br/>just like breathing air - - <br/>your woman comes home <br/>and her gaze and smile <br/>are empty - - <br/>music sounds <br/>flat like a <br/>pre-Columbian Earth - - <br/>you gaze at <br/>the landscape and <br/>it looks fake - - <br/>all of your epiphanies <br/>end up being <br/>pedestrian - - <br/>you write poems about them all <br/>and they lack <br/>content - - <br/>and your bathroom mirror <br/>is reflecting <br/>hollowness. <br/> <br/> <br/>found the problem. <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>2005 by ATB</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Atomic 2005-12-13T19:03:40Z gypsygirllll http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/94e8d8e5-521c-4254-9d0e-2906fa14b85c 2005-12-13T02:26:10Z 2005-12-12T19:35:52Z

<div>Hey anyone out there? <br/>I want to read more poetry!</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 4 replies </div>

gypsygirllll 2005-12-12T19:35:52Z Atomic http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/4a79973e-9cfa-4fdf-9c97-4c01be6fd5c1 2005-12-12T20:09:18Z 2005-12-11T22:32:30Z

<div> <br/> <br/> <br/>“Skeletor’s coup de grace” <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>a pillow-buried face <br/>comes up for air <br/>gasping, trembling <br/>“what are you DOING to me!?!” <br/> <br/>never face-up, <br/>never to look in my eyes, <br/>yet eager for the drunken fuck <br/>she licks my left forearm <br/>like a blind liscentious serpent <br/>to spur onward <br/>the continued rythmic <br/>slow-grinding probes <br/> <br/>and one speach-slurred evening, <br/>engineering our last tryst, <br/>she gives me what I crave <br/>yet a set-up to fail, <br/>on HER terms... <br/> <br/>eyes finally locked onto mine, <br/>she demands to be jackhammered <br/>to satisfaction <br/>into the livingroom carpet, <br/>a feat for which this man <br/>possesses no stamina; <br/>mimmicking rape <br/>to the letter <br/>is not in my <br/>repitoire. <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>2005 by ATB <br/></div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 4 replies </div>

Atomic 2005-12-11T22:32:30Z Atomic http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/a41c62e1-d249-4771-b1dc-16082254cd9f 2005-12-12T20:01:34Z 2005-12-09T02:17:42Z

<div> <br/> <br/> <br/>"around-the-world" <br/> <br/> <br/>on the upswing <br/>mashing the delicate <br/>sweet full lips <br/>of friendship, opportunity - - <br/>polluting the unknowing <br/>with a residue <br/>of shit, sweat <br/>and tiny bits <br/>of toilet tissue <br/>before dipping down <br/>again to suck <br/>mine own arse <br/> <br/> <br/>2003 by ATB</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 2 replies </div>

Atomic 2005-12-09T02:17:42Z asailboat http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/d984c7a8-3b46-47d6-b518-5c6a2b98bfb0 2005-12-10T22:41:16Z 2005-12-10T22:41:16Z

<div>so lets shed it ,,, <br/>out to the woreld, everybody s out gettin laid and i;m in my mastselfasterbation... nothing makes dollars in inglish, the world is everybody and who am i,,, the disaster... jklmnop. dosent matter disastor, repeate. what loves???? discrase. can you make me beliceve the lie?? i don't know how. the universe reverses itself for the universe. and where are we??? lost out in the out come... and distaster do we live. and exlamation do we have faith in... and the weather does not care... and let th3e rain turn to snow, and let the rain not caRE. and the distaster goes on, in our lively hoods. in our everdestanatnations in our heads, it's all that really matters. not the forgin translations. b ut the core., the real..// the forgetfulness that makes sence,on some keybord. and we are noeverywhere.... i cant stand proper anything. nothing exist and i hopethe world ends ime... <br/>and thats it..........</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

asailboat 2005-12-10T22:41:16Z Atomic http://beatpoets.tribe.net/thread/0d573039-4d34-42c6-8f99-0941b2c983d6 2005-12-09T20:04:15Z 2005-12-09T20:04:15Z

<div> <br/> <br/>"occasions" <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>on occasion <br/>as bathyscaphe <br/>i may use <br/>a debauch <br/>to find bottoms <br/>yet discovered <br/>but hinted <br/>by residues <br/>on my surface <br/>tho' it's hoped <br/>such origins <br/>i'll not reach - - <br/> <br/> <br/>if i can help it. <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/>2003 by ATB</div> <div> posted in <a href="http://beatpoets.tribe.net">Beat Poetry</a> - 0 replies </div>

Atomic 2005-12-09T20:04:15Z