tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35339742024-03-08T00:42:56.438-08:00chaos mattersa poet writes a blogAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comBlogger47125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-13309480077182909592008-07-18T20:57:00.000-07:002008-07-18T21:03:18.431-07:00Emergency<br /><br />Was it at night the waters parted and they came in<br />the night you convulsed and lay on the floor?<br />Was it drought that left you for dead, or something else<br />that ate from within<br /><br />It is no wonder they used leaches<br />The need to solve problems<br />the need to talk about it<br />never do anything<br />ever<br />before permission to act<br /><br />Emergency - a place to calmly go ahead<br />with no regard for normality; enact the pieta<br />everything is to be forgiven as the clock strikes one<br />anything is possible in a storm<br /><br />walk against the wind and it could tear your coat<br />walk around the wind and you may sail and ascend<br />they may take you<br />upward<br />in the endAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-940806172003-05-09T17:02:00.000-07:002007-10-05T19:46:16.310-07:00<p class=heading><br />Jack knife<br /><p><br />flick<br />goes the gears<br />colliding thumbs in darkness <br />deadly units of gray<br /><br />horrid bonfire<br />bad story after bad<br />leaves in the unhurried tree <br />mixed presoaked deadly roots<br /><br />can never sense its <br />island drift into <br />wayward rock icicles<br />it missed <br /><br />the flag refurling celebrations<br />the valid avail held <br />back by scarred minor<br />vacuums that scurry<br />along the creaking alley<br /><br />the corner of a vortex<br />lined shiny and metal<br /><br />“rees the vapo nort of the vospa”<br />was <br />raat on the dark fort in the estuary<br /><br />ripped by wind<br /><br />all swords swayed port<br />all vacant mort justification<br />spellbound august yet casual<br /><br /> a Mexican bandito relaxed into <br />gambling instincts borne of sweat<br />and riding in for wreckage <br />on the backs of fine horses<br /><br />all the impossible heroics of cardboard<br />marketing campaigns eroding maximisation<br /><br />pale yardstick of memoir fantastic<br />rise to bellowing and yeowing<br />the cautious maradeurs of wisterical flaws<br />a pause in the harsh morse<br />a lost half crown betted on a horse<br />or buried in the bourse <br />hurtling down <br />like an asteroid unfixed<br />like a banker transfixed<br />like the light that held its wrist<br /><br />hurtling down<br />the biting metal of a sound <br />that your bones remember<br /><br />when it hits <br />life blown to bits<br />by the jibes of the unfit<br />and the heaving of the jespers<br /><br />the wheezing past of the jesters<br />the screaming of the weeks<br /><br />and the laugh that lies <br />at the bottom of the sea<br /><br /><br /><br />18:04 9 May 2003Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-937413452003-05-04T03:40:00.000-07:002003-05-04T03:40:52.050-07:00Limp Justice
<br />
<br />Just before she came down with her dogs
<br />to the village
<br />
<br />Her crown fell from the roof of her landrover
<br />and laughter was heard in the court
<br />
<br />A congressional hearing was interrupted by storms
<br />soothsaying by idiots mattered more
<br />
<br />Predictions upturned handfuls of grain
<br />as hordes of Hugh Grant lookalikes,
<br />Neutered by angels,
<br />were stopped before the tracks were laid
<br />
<br />The chair
<br />strikes the ground like a gavel
<br />
<br />The chair
<br />strikes the ground again
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-930809432003-04-22T18:02:00.000-07:002003-04-23T01:40:01.000-07:00<p class=heading>Slipstream
<br /><p>
<br />In the context of our reality, do we form attitudes due to the force of personality or the effect of our deeds? Or is personality formed due to the attitudes we carry, the contexts through which we compress communication, the circumstances we find ourselves in?
<br /><p>
<br />The economics of friction and need that exist between increasing numbers of others forces the issue in an expodential curse; the push and pull of economics results in decisions; decisions form direction and events that define and shape the personality. These sharpened angles and well worn curves in the outer self dictates to the inner self what it shall think. Yin and Yang symbolizes the exchange or currency of living.
<br /><p>
<br />As breath defines form, expression burrows out an existence within the confines of hope. Caught in the verse of passing moments, the slipstream of current; what others may or may not do; each one of us remains and is still. The universe passes us. We are the light in the projector, and the world is but a film. As each frame passes the aperture and lens, we remain locked in the capsule of our opinion to examine the grand detail.
<br /><p>
<br />We all watch the clouds pass overhead even when in motion. The movement of the cloud travels with us as the cloud does. The stars are more effective for navigation. Despite moving millions of miles an hour away from us and each other they are so far away that for many years we may see little change.
<br /><p>
<br />We define the reality we share, but a greater challenge is the definition of our own interior.
<br /><p>
<br />23/04/2003 12:55
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-928626512003-04-18T16:38:00.000-07:002010-03-15T00:05:14.995-07:00<b>A Stabbing</b><br />
<br />
Cutting the final edges <br />
from the form <br />
<br />
Loose change dangles <br />
dignity forlorn <br />
<br />
Stake in heart bleeds <br />
life away <br />
<br />
the blade drains the <br />
soul breath away <br />
<br />
Angels pass overhead and branches shake <br />
out lies <br />
<br />
The blade sinks in <br />
and his victim diesAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-922399642003-04-08T12:42:00.000-07:002003-04-08T13:15:53.000-07:00<pre>
<br />her love
<br />
<br />there was a funny way she held her mouth
<br />thus
<br />
<br />and she said the very first thing that
<br />struck her
<br />
<br />the first thing to enter her head
<br />
<br />thirsty soul hungry for love
<br />but had to go
<br />
<br />early departure
<br />always a shame
<br />what could been after
<br />never again
<br />
<br />falling from the sky like a leaf
<br />better than staking out
<br />the guilty
<br />
<br />nonsense takes us
<br />from life in which It made us
<br />
<br />Every story has its final
<br />Page.
<br />
<br />Can't always see the sense
<br />in what happens there
<br />
<br />people cut off mid sentence
<br />or fighting twisted up hair
<br />laughter can't be contained
<br />between the closeness of
<br />her lips as she welcomes
<br />a final drift from consciousness
<br />a release from pain grief and despair
<br />
<br />floating now above
<br />free to express
<br />her love
<br />all the suggestions
<br />left out in front
<br />on the lawn
<br />for all to see
<br />
<br />10:59am
<br />7 April 2003
<br /></pre>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-911638942003-03-21T20:37:00.000-08:002003-03-21T20:42:05.000-08:00<p class=headiing>chaos matters
<br /><a href="http://66.183.107.55:81/cul1/homeworlds/journal"><img src="http://66.183.107.55:81/cul1/homeworlds/journal/archives/photos/shock01.jpg" border=0> </a>
<br /><p>
<br />The wall fell down
<br />the words fell down
<br />the Walls fell down
<br /><p>
<br />the Word fell
<br /><p>
<br />Child picked up the pieces
<br />stuck them together along
<br />broken edges draws
<br />narrow conclusions
<br /><p>
<br />his father's last words
<br />fight to the death, son
<br />honour your father
<br />with the destruction
<br />of our enemies
<br />the ground is too full of our dead
<br />our ground shall hold the blood
<br />of the hordes of hell
<br /><p>
<br />Son, you may choose to live
<br />in universities, become a doctor or a thief
<br />but one thing is sound, and thats your belief
<br />that anything against the Word
<br />is evil
<br /><p>
<br />believe the world is but an illusion
<br />to mask our delusion
<br />like a game
<br /><p>
<br />you get a lot
<br />if you die, carrying a sword
<br />in the name of God
<br /><p>
<br /><br>
<br /><p class=smallprint>
<br />14:30pm
<br /><br>
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-911058942003-03-20T21:12:00.000-08:002003-03-20T21:36:43.000-08:00<a href="http://66.183.107.55:81/cul1/homeworlds/journal" target="_blank"><img src="http://66.183.107.55:81/cul1/homeworlds/journal/archives/photos/bagd.jpg" border=0></a>
<br />explosions in bagdhad
<br />tearing apart the life works of saddam
<br />if he had left
<br />
<br />the people could have done it themselves
<br />with their own hands
<br />
<br />america had to erase
<br />every figment of
<br />the imagaination
<br />
<br />bagdhad born anew
<br />with caves dug by
<br />orders
<br />
<br />children fall down
<br />the holes
<br />
<br />
<br />Links: <a href="http://disturbingtrends.tk"> Nicholas Alexander war blog </a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-906637702003-03-13T11:55:00.000-08:002003-03-13T11:55:56.090-08:00<p class=heading>
<br />oppose death
<br />
<br /><pre>
<br />Call out your soulful armies and cry the cry of battle
<br />Dawn drawn long shadow cast upon ground
<br />blood that ran like tears down mountains
<br />into plains
<br />
<br />the sake of power
<br />
<br />Swords drawn
<br />spill blood into cups
<br />
<br />bodies cry
<br />dance the fatal dance
<br />laugh the fatal last
<br />time
<br />
<br />Evil has a name
<br />death is the cause
<br />
<br />retribution unmasked
<br />
<br /></pre>
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-901428402003-03-04T16:21:00.000-08:002003-03-04T16:21:25.590-08:00
<br />spontaneous notes
<br />
<br /><pre>
<br />nimble feet gesture
<br />claws tightly enwrenched
<br />into this or that
<br />
<br />all those wars
<br />it won't matter to the dead
<br />
<br />lying there,
<br />feeding
<br />
<br />nor the torn wards
<br />of the shame
<br />
<br />the fallen take care in the village
<br />
<br />gangs of preditors sweep their white
<br />fangs over the heart that frail and stolen
<br />creeps on its hands in the garden
<br />
<br />all that weeps is for nothing
<br />all that laughs is enough to sell the sorry story
<br />to the blokes with the money
<br />
<br />calling us fragile is not the storm
<br />that makes crepe of the curtain
<br />between the in and the out?
<br />
<br />Sold to the winter of solids. Braile in the summer storm.
<br />
<br />All hardly fit under land
<br />surface and brain
<br />
<br />hardly any morse
<br />
<br />crying sins fake rain and small flutters under eyelids
<br />all over again
<br />
<br />
<br />5 March 2003
<br />
<br /></pre>
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-900848942003-03-03T18:15:00.000-08:002003-03-03T18:15:16.233-08:00
<br /><h3>
<br />Commentary:::<i>this site needs a face lift</i>
<br /></h3>
<br />
<br /><pre>
<br />bombs do not rise
<br />to meet
<br />the endless prayers of those who need
<br />
<br />bombs do not climb
<br />from hungry childrens hands
<br />they do not fall in the lap of humble america
<br />
<br />bombs do not rise
<br />on the day of the reckoning
<br />bombs will be counted alongside
<br />rape and toture a ticket to certain hell
<br />
<br />bombs are not clean
<br />they do nothing except
<br />threaten those that do not tow the line
<br />
<br />bombs are not welcome
<br />in any place
<br />
<br />bombs be decommissioned
<br />and turned into bad sculptures
<br /></pre>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-897270952003-02-25T11:24:00.000-08:002003-02-25T11:47:17.000-08:00Check out <a href="http://aucklandpoetry.com">AucklandPoetry.com</a> - submit your poemsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-886554052003-02-06T08:57:00.000-08:002003-02-06T08:57:28.250-08:00Verdue Saint Prisma
<br />Kila Egein Wagom
<br />Elis Qua Zorin
<br />Weel Vartac Qualif
<br />Lamba Juna Sama
<br />Ta Lamso
<br />Av Brasio
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-885728062003-02-04T20:52:00.000-08:002003-02-04T20:54:51.000-08:00<pre>
<br /><p class=heading>
<br />One of these days
<br /><p class=normal>
<br />One of these days
<br />I am going to get a new one
<br /><p class=normal>
<br />a better one that works better than the last one
<br />a simpler one that people understand
<br />a stronger one that won't break
<br /><p class=normal>
<br />when its under stress
<br /><p class=normal>
<br />One of these days
<br />I am going to buy an egg
<br />and roll it down a slide
<br />watch it land
<br />and break
<br /><p class=normal>
<br />watch it make that sound
<br />cracking eggs make
<br />watch it whirl around
<br />like
<br />an
<br />egg
<br /><p class=normal>
<br />One of these days I am going to get
<br />around
<br />
<br /></pre>
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-865231982002-12-25T12:48:00.000-08:002002-12-25T12:48:22.776-08:00<p class=heading
<br />seasons past
<br /><p>
<br />winter dulls in the trees
<br /><br> as spring loosens its grip
<br /><br> ice drops from twigs
<br /><br> and the air changes to mist
<br /><p>
<br /><br> calling out to me
<br /><br> fallen gestures held fast
<br /><br> by time still standing
<br /><br> in the garden
<br /><p>
<br /><br> all that ache
<br /><br> lost in the spine
<br /><br> of the valid wounds
<br /><br> so deep they can't hear
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-864139152002-12-22T17:10:00.000-08:002002-12-22T17:10:14.360-08:00Wither the wind drifts
<br />Wither the clouds pass
<br />Wither the dreams exist
<br />or a daft dreadful dance
<br />whether not the breaks
<br />in time justify
<br />whether or not the real slide
<br />off style subsides or cruel
<br />hands file little vapours from
<br />the blind and their god ridden minds
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-854633942002-12-03T20:05:00.000-08:002002-12-03T20:05:56.860-08:00spring
<br />
<br />this hour is gentle warmth
<br />unfolding trees
<br />waving files of glass
<br />green sheets unfold
<br />with the light
<br />each morning
<br />
<br />written just now on the spot (for a school assignment)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-852541092002-11-29T06:27:00.000-08:002002-11-29T06:27:07.053-08:00
<br />
<br />
<br />He carved his name in the wood
<br />as it burned
<br />a mistake under the sky
<br />burning threats smoke in the sky
<br />
<br />the apple was taken from the head of the boy
<br />and the soldier took the arrow
<br />
<br />his eye was forsaken for the sly skins of the boy
<br />who ran away
<br />
<br />the old woman hid in the ground and spoke
<br />of wounded children changing everything
<br />
<br />but it was the local customs that defeated the
<br />rain as it burns eyes taking vision
<br />
<br />every colour and sound from the lands
<br />the arbor of the lands
<br />melted into ash
<br />
<br />reason evaporated
<br />and its steam vanished from the world
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-838360812002-10-31T10:44:00.000-08:002002-10-31T10:44:07.630-08:00Figure the last of them has taken its ferry
<br />over the lands it does not own
<br />and into the ocean it does not know
<br />
<br />Nature at risk
<br />Little safety in numbers
<br />children standing in doorways
<br />little men with guns
<br />trained on the eye of the enemy
<br />
<br />learn about emnity
<br />from the day life starts
<br />until its blood soaked finish
<br />line exodus from reason
<br />
<br />take the gun from the hand of the child
<br />de-sex the soldiers before they spread
<br />their disease across the widowed
<br />hinterlands
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-821143442002-09-25T14:58:00.000-07:002002-09-25T15:00:55.000-07:00<p class=heading>On photographing a bee
<br /><p class=normal>
<br />beneath the point of comfort
<br />between the needs of image and safety
<br />the worry of the buzz
<br />waiting with your finger
<br />hovering over the button
<br />its sweet nectar the image
<br />
<br />Its sudden action, the threat
<br />
<br />you capture pollen
<br />laden on both legs
<br />your knees creak as you stand
<br />as you return to comfort and distance
<br />
<br />image ready, held in one hand
<br />
<br /><p class=copyright>
<br />23:00GMT 25Sept
<br /><br>
<br />10:00NZT 26Sept
<br /><br>See:
<br /><a href="http://www.etherealreflections.com/photos/">Reflections</a>
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-820160182002-09-23T16:15:00.000-07:002002-09-23T16:15:14.696-07:00Looking for a day
<br />
<br />Beneath the trees
<br />under the scars
<br />over the moon
<br />in the cars
<br />under bees
<br />before noon
<br />after now
<br />the day
<br />is
<br />borne
<br />on the wings
<br />of a bird soaring
<br />high on the wish
<br />of a cloud hanging
<br />there wanting
<br />to be mistaken
<br />for an idea
<br />to be taken
<br />before a crowd
<br />
<br />- 11:21 24sept2002
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-815449672002-09-13T00:44:00.000-07:002002-09-13T00:44:27.006-07:00
<br />[s]How can u exist[/s]
<br />
<br />between the shards of flame
<br />lowbrow digests closing
<br />valve joints open
<br />swollen with faith
<br />
<br />we walk unto thee
<br />and hold a mirror to
<br />thy slave
<br />
<br />recording its breaths
<br />and counting the hours of the day
<br />until its time
<br />
<br />until it's time
<br />the golden petal falls
<br />slice the air deep
<br />with its frozen call
<br />
<br />we walk through
<br />the burdonsome maze
<br />and chaff at the noose
<br />
<br />wiping the other out
<br />our sisters and brothers
<br />lie down without need
<br />as we burn out the truth
<br />the fall to their knees
<br />
<br />praying things will get better
<br />and you end the disease
<br />
<br />and pull out your toothAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-814983102002-09-12T01:31:00.000-07:002002-09-12T01:31:02.763-07:00death is sad
<br />
<br />the walk away from the earth
<br />the way back from here to there
<br />the eating of the earth
<br />the testing words
<br />the venting of words
<br />to assauge the angel
<br />to fly from the earth
<br />the earth dying behind her
<br />she leaves a trail of stars
<br />the vauge hope someone
<br />may listen and hear
<br />the crying by time
<br />over the gentle
<br />folk who abide
<br />by the wishes
<br />of the most
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-814765772002-09-11T15:16:00.000-07:002002-09-12T01:23:53.000-07:00saving the world
<br />
<br />for another day
<br />he placed it carefully
<br />in his open pocket
<br />
<br />and went outside to play
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3533974.post-812745352002-09-07T04:16:00.000-07:002002-09-07T04:16:58.860-07:00Light uneasy said the Mercury
<br />at Jeffrey each noonday at midday
<br />
<br />calling out to them all that seeth and
<br />struggle in the vat
<br />
<br />laughter and doom go together in there
<br />bricks of antipathy and burning basics
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com