Well done children of the verse. Part one is now finished and let's keep those verses coming in in Part two

This delightful poem was sent to me by the incomparable Linda Simpson, and I post it here with her permission...


Farewell, my Pope

By Linda Simpson

No hope
For the Pope
A downward slope
At the end of his rope
Silent is the stethoscope
Oh, the scope, the scope!
How will we cope?
The faithful will mope
And mope and mope
Me, I’ll skip rope
Read my horoscope
Watch my soap
Eat some cantaloupe
And daydream of the day I elope
But I won’t mope for the Pope
Nope, nope, nope
I’m gay and I’m proud
And he was a dope

unspeakable happiness

unassuming laughter
joyous discovery
sentient surprises
savoring a memory
those silly glances
the heart felt gift
that certain something
a very special moment
what else can i not say?
i love you?

unspeakable happiness

merlin 042905

This message has been edited. Last edited by: Merlinator,

Pope Jean Paul II:
A pale joie pinup.

Pope Benedict XVI:
Con, bite, piped vex.

(con=cunt ; bite=cock)

«Man Ray: n. masc. syn. de joie, jouer, jouir» Marcel Duchamp (in the dictionary of Surrealism I believe.)

I like this definition because it's what I remember Jackie being about.

This message has been edited. Last edited by: Justine La Manche,

-Babystep From Madness-

a baby step was made into the canyon
followed by more, reluctantly facing
an unknown without the guideing hand
terrible thots flooded the eye sockets
like an acid flashback come to life
illusions so brutal, one just had to believe
carried away by a monster so crafty
nobody noticed the missing person
screaming behind the glass wall
pounding their fists black & blue
truth escaped the day almost everyday
until it was clutching the throat
like a murderer dying to kill something new
like the horn on the head getting
older by the minute
created by a flight of stairs
marble and as unforgiving as the hosts
that fucked the blindwoman senseless
terrible thots flooded the eye sockets
like an acid flashback come to life
reliveing to tell the tales that were
not meant for small ears and open hearts
a womb so heavy the tears were leaking out
for all the world to see
beauty never looked so hideous, except
the time gold leaf was painted over
a cadaver waiting for the execution
that will never happen because all of
it was raptured inside of her head.

Copyright Velocity Chyaldd (2005)

Moved Reply:

New piece...I'll be reading it at Fresh Fruit Festival July 13th at Collective Unconscious at part of their Two Spirit Program. Inspired by this past week.



WHAT DID YOU SEE?

Dance ‘round Brothers and Sisters
Focus on the Tree
Give voices to songs our prayers of good
Focus on the Me

A rattle, perhaps, a bone whistle or feather
Awakens what’s within
Fall into myself, collapse and let go

Through the night I am carried
By two spirit brother
To the Light I feel Light
Face down upon Mother

A rattle within, a bone whistle or feather
“Eat, Dear One,” she hums
“Eat through Me”

Eyes wide shut I see fire in me
Open they see ancestors run across plains
Ancestors run as they scream, run as they die
Horses slaughtered they run
Screams that are warnings to those left behind
Screams contain messages for me and for mine

“Two Spirits” they scream
“Do not trust them” they whoop
“They will kill your horses, too - do not accept their laws
You cannot ride upon that which they take away”

“Accept no gifts except what you give yourself
They will kill you because you are different from them
They will kill you because you are different from them
Laws are mere paper, you must be your own shield
There is nowhere outside for anyone to hide
They will kill you because you are different from them

Take care of You, Two Spirits
Take care of You
Eat
Prepare
Rest well
Take care of You
They will kill you because you are different from them
Stop the drugs and the disease and the drunken fallacies
Do not give them the butt end of the gun
While you look down the barrel”

Eyes wide open to hear what I’ve seen
I blow upon the dirt as they run and they scream
Be ready
WAKE UP!!!!!
You are different
They will kill you because you are different from them

That very night that was five ago from this
Two faces appear from two other sides
One is Sylvester, dearly carried over
One is Aviance on a downtown street
Screaming her warnings as she lay broken and beat

Her screams are warnings to me and to mine
“Be ready,” she cries
“They will kill you because you are different from them”

Moved Reply:

Very nice Joe.

Moved Reply:

wrote this tonite...

-neon bomb-

and the light flickered there
for years
burning a hole
inside of the hole

hanging from a thread
called "reality"
emotions unchecked
flourishing
in the rich soil
of the soiled

15 minutes of shame
buried deep within
the pillows and wood
the walls would talk
if they could

nebulous confusion
overides
the self-induced haze
escaping intrusion
another dark phase
when you trust the beast
enough to leave your home
talk to a stranger
and touch again...

the flickering light

when it's way too late
to stop the bomb
stop the bomb
exploding neon bright
as violent as the night

it was planted.

copyright Velocity Chyaldd 2006

This message has been edited. Last edited by: Vulgaras,

Hot Knife Humiltiation

Hot knife melting my skin
slideing off the bone
sizzling back again
the spirit is unknown
tinderbox heart of gold
done broke another toy
ransacked moodswings of
another damaged boy

turn that knife when U love me
if U really really mean it
go ahead n EAT my shame
at least then I'll FEEL it
turn that knife when U love me
if U really really mean it
go ahead n EAT my shame
at least then I'll FEEL it

God is missing.....NOW
in the blink of an Eye
hot knife opens my gutter
cuts the bullshit supply
killing all the clutter
humiliation overdrive

turn that knife when U love me
if U really really mean it
go ahead n EAT my shame
at least then I'll FEEL it
turn that knife when U love me
if U really really mean it
go ahead n EAT my shame
at least then I'll FEEL it

Hot knife melting my skin
slideing off the bone
sizzling back again
the spirit is unknown
tinderbox heart of gold
done broke another toy
ransacked moodswings of
another damaged boy

humiliation overdrive
in my rearview mirror

copyright Velocity Chyaldd (ascap) 2006

Sent on a loop by a recent publication:
The Downtown Book
The New York Scene 1974-1984
Published by Princeton University Press
in collaboration with Grey Art Gallery in
conjunction with the art show of the same name not so lately exhibited at the Grey Art Gallery.

Empress Chi Chi Valenti has a totally whack writting about the pure nature of 'downtown' attire that was an exterior manifestation of undomesticated soul. "No one called it downtown, it was just our universe." -Or something like that. There is a scathingly gorgeous face-obscuring photo by the equally gorge ex-pat Michael James O'Brien of the Empress.

But then I have to guffaw because on page 150 in the section of the book about 'downtown' writting there is a citation of a poem that appeared in the American Book Award-winning, groundbreaking anthology published by Simon and Schuster, 'Aloud, Voices from the Nuyorican Poets Cafe' (check out the back cover of THAT book at any Barnes and Noble the next time you float past the poetry section for a nice group photo including the fab Bobby Miller, main engine behind J-60's Verbal Abuse series). The citation in The Downtown Book quotes, "that's what happens / when language has a landord." And attributes it to "Pete Skiff". LOL

I luv obscurity.

This message has been edited. Last edited by: seven,

From Emanuel Xavier:

MUSE

for Willi Ninja

Like a coy diva you haunt discreetly
awakening my thoughts with subtle whispers
prompting me to fulfill the promise
as we held hands from a certain end
the magic already withdrawn from your eyes
forced to walk a destiny arriving too early for the ball

The liveliest memory of us is parked just outside the piers
under the bright lights of a clear night
Praying to the waters of Yemaya y Ochun

There was no need to ask that I write this poem
Without words or tears it is lifeless
This is only a shadow of legendary
because it comes from a withered heart
These limbs are already fractured
unable to unlock limitations and click inspiration

Your House is waiting
Your children
stretched across a cold floor
in every pose you left behind
staring at a ceiling without stars
while your mother holds their sorrow

They will dance only to the echoes of your soul
as you dare to claim the clouds under your heels
Myself, I will rest upon the ashes of your dreams
until the sky falls

© 2006 by Emanuel Xavier for Pier Queen Productions.

WORK!

That's beautiful.

A Thought:

Why bother writing
or speaking your truth
or opinion
if you aren't gonna be heard,
listened to, accepted,
cared about, loved--
and be basically censored
punished, stifled, silenced, oppresed
why open your mouth
no-one likes you anyway
so shut the fuck up

AndreaBiscotti

About Poetry:

poetry turns to wormwood on my tongue
I hear only music and say or see nothing else
and so this is christmas...but who gives a fuck?


AndreaBiscotti

Absent Friends:

i never should have gotten
involved with her
him
it

i should have never gone there
met them
hung out with them
wnet to club with them
hung out in their homes
drank with them at bars
read poetry to them
with them
at them
sang with them
cried with them
hated on people with them
danced with them
talked shit with them
watched films with them
sided with them and defended them
watched them kiss
watch them fuck
watched porn with them
saw plays with them
went shopping with them

i should have never given them
the time of day

AndreaBiscotti

INITIALS B.B.

i could be your macheath
if you can be my jenny
or maybe my polly
i haven't decided which one you are
and perhapsserge could sing us a song
in his lecherous groan


AndreaBiscotti

THE FLAME CANNOT BE EXSTINGUSHED!

David don't sew up your lips!
Please don't you dare shut your mouth
We need you now more than ever
The world has all but forgotten about you
Some of us still react to the world
Though art and AIDS are both a global pandemic
And your words and your vision
Are sorely missed, and I won't
Let your vision and voice be silenced
Or die like an obnoxious fly!

AndreaBiscotti