https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/category-217-week-of-nbsp-06-25-07 en 2005-2012 shakespearesmonekys@gmail.com 42.65593 -71.33391 Tue, 09 Jun 2026 10:21:37 GMT yacs http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss 70 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5091-advice-to-a-budding-poet https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5091-advice-to-a-budding-poet You said, "It seems too short to be a poem" "Indeed?" I answer. frustrated you say, "How long is a poem?" So I tell you exactly: "How long is a moment? It's about that long." anstey Release the Hounds Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-29-release-the-hounds#comments 5 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5091 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5091 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5091 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5035-at-the-printer https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5035-at-the-printer The magazine is being printed as we speak. Seriously anstey Just a Nastey Journal Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-30-just-a-nastey-journal#comments 7 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5035 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5035 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5035 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5092-dux-bellorum-et-poeta https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5092-dux-bellorum-et-poeta Of Holy Grails, Blood Feuds & Words anstey Release the Hounds Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-29-release-the-hounds#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5092 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5092 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5092 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5046-for-closure https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5046-for-closure Hours later, while you dreamt of a white picket fence that was yours Minutes later, when you called out for your grandmother Seconds later, after you ran away from everything the locks where changed and the man in the charcoal suit said "I'm sorry"   anstey Release the Hounds Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-29-release-the-hounds#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5046 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5046 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5046 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5036-for-my-wife-on-a-tuesday https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5036-for-my-wife-on-a-tuesday variation on a theme anstey Release the Hounds Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-29-release-the-hounds#comments 3 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5036 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5036 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5036 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-3282-giving-the-beach-back-to-the-tourists https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-3282-giving-the-beach-back-to-the-tourists   Translucent moonlight slips from midnight skies, whitewashes my salty moist skin with splashes of light. Beads of warm sweat trickle, between winter white breasts, stirrings arouse my calm center, as we lie on a native bed of sand and shell. Tied loosely to moorings, far off fishing boats bobble and creak. The Atlantic murmurs; channel markers faintly chime under a spill of silver stars. Quivering beneath this elegant canopy, I reveal myself to bursts of dream light, letting my flesh rhyme with yours. The whimsical tide plays with the gulls; a westerly breeze swishes through sea oats and beach grass. Your fragrance lingers among temperamental pleasures, summon once calm waves to crest again and again. In the lavender-streaked dawn, we search the sand for tossed undergarments and washed up shells while beachgoers march towards the sea, stomping on the sunbleached boardwalk, smelling of sunscreen and last night’s margaritas. ... more Anne My Words, My Time: Poetry of Anna Blake Godbout Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-183-my-words-my-time-poetry-of-anna-blake-godbout#comments 4 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/3282 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/3282 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A3282 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5047-jax https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5047-jax When we first met my balls bounced -- a giant game: fish, red giants, white dwarves and the noxious stench of wishywashywishing. The poison spines of puffed up stars seemed deadly where we stepped under Luna's screaming gaping maw barefoot. It was the squid's ink then the blood from a misstep that landed me the pigments to paint you in the autumn tones of cool sex. Damn those sharp stars prickling our snowy-white asses and damn us for not looking when we were the ones playing the game. anstey Release the Hounds Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-29-release-the-hounds#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5047 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5047 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5047 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5049-love-in-a-place-without-flowers https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5049-love-in-a-place-without-flowers You tell me clouds are falling, and your head is hatless hopeless bald I sell you bawling ferrets and you say that they're too tall but here in dreamland you understand every door to my heart's a wall. I rhyme at you: Your sun is showing and your skirt's black lines are glowing -- You buy my toes for nickels and you say so dill they taste like pickles but here in dreamland i understand every wall round your soul's all-knowing. anstey Release the Hounds Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-29-release-the-hounds#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5049 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5049 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5049 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5045-no-god-but-the-internet https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5045-no-god-but-the-internet when we first met it was your tears i knew best (Bob, was the fat one, and Ted the skinny, oh Michael -- his sword as he razored down your cheek flashed sublime) did i tell you there is no God? (but there are pajamas covered in little pink kittens and green lollipops - what could be more holy than that?) When next we met it was yourheart I knew (because the damned thing could not stop beating me long enough for me to breathe) Finally, I held you Kissed your forehead sang to you in whispers: .. i am lost i am lost lost. (google maps... save me...) ... more anstey Release the Hounds Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-29-release-the-hounds#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5045 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5045 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5045 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5054-shakespeare-s-monkey-revue-other-things https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5054-shakespeare-s-monkey-revue-other-things Sent on June 27 2007 at 11:25 am to "members" anstey Archived letters Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-98-archived-letters#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5054 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5054 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5054 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5051-soul-searching-in-paris https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5051-soul-searching-in-paris The kiss of October was french cut and new when you cried out: despair, love if only the right handbag if only the right dress But no, .. i am lost i am lost All April, this was the shattered glassy cry for mouthwash, for the Seine, for the insane. Spring forward, and be the new fashion be bold, cold and the memory of last winter Yes, Yes ... i am found i am found. anstey Release the Hounds Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-29-release-the-hounds#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5051 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5051 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5051 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5043-telling-your-life https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5043-telling-your-life when we first met it was your tears i knew best the cool kiss of october was new when you sang out despair: There is no point There is no God There is nothing. I have nothing and love? What is that? despair: There is no money There is no home did i tell you there is no God? and love? What is that? When next we met it was your heart heart I knew your voice, your laughter but still despair: I am alone. I am alone. I am alone. and love? What is that? despair: I am old. I am tired. ... more anstey Release the Hounds Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-29-release-the-hounds#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5043 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5043 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5043 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5031-the-futility-of-turtles https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5031-the-futility-of-turtles The car did not stop. Wheels continued to spin as my father and I looked to the curb - the struggling turtle attempting to work its way back onto its feet. Its legs, splayed to the sunlight, flailed in the crisp breeze of a day just beginning. Later, I went out with Mother. She told me stories about how she had been dreaming of being raped, of shooting her husband, and as I tuned the voice of convolution into a studded white noise, I began to imagine her, on her back, her arms reaching in futility for the sky from the dark recesses of her verdant shell. I laughed (foolishly). ... more Leanne Aesthetic Psychosis Thu, 14 Feb 2008 14:43:40 GMT /section-391-aesthetic-psychosis#comments 8 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5031 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5031 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5031 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5096-immortality https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5096-immortality   Gazing upon me Color of rich almonds I see my universe born In eyes that are mine               “Hi baby…” I sigh   Intoxicating! Salty rivers flow down flushed cheeks  leaving trails of wet happiness               Life begins, with a wail.    Fullness of breasts Pulling her close to me Smelling of sour sweetness Sleepy bubbles on rose petal lips               Years sweep away, like the tides   Skipping across tall grass Wildflowers strewn through Unruly chestnut hair Eruptions of giggles               My immortality, complete ... more babymoon Beneath the baby moon: the ramblings of Janelle Sun, 26 Aug 2007 16:52:46 GMT /section-358-beneath-the-baby-moon-the-ramblings-of-janelle#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5096 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5096 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5096 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5029-alive-for-one-week https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5029-alive-for-one-week it's been a week, what can I say callooh Words Words Words Sun, 08 Jul 2007 22:23:53 GMT /section-335-words-words-words#comments 4 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5029 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5029 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5029 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5065-braids https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5065-braids This is a piece I'm sure I'll revise as I gain more skills, but I'd welcome suggestions for strenthening it now White_Feather The Treasure Chest Thu, 05 Jul 2007 21:40:56 GMT /section-297-the-treasure-chest#comments 8 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5065 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5065 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5065 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5086-deus-ex-aequitas https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5086-deus-ex-aequitas The center sits amidst a pool of throbbing gold and seeks a freedom from the majesty around it clockwork gears define an era based upon selflessness –         unequivocal absence of the self and we are simple; never banal. Boring does not exist as pertaining to me and I am the most interesting person I will ever meet –             if I ever meet myself. The luster of a soul; can it be counted, weighed, put upon a scale?         Discretion is the better part of all things...                 except discretion. 1 And days later – I held it,             the thing that you love.         I held the thing that you crave     and I held it and I grinned         and I held the thing that you love         and I looked into your eyes.     I looked into your eyes, and the eyes         of the thing that you love     and I held it with solemn fingers     unforgiving solemn fingers     and I looked into your eyes     as I held it, and grinned. The wind did not change,     because the wind has no master;         no eyes to see that I held what you love;             that you love what I held –                     I grinned     and my teeth were perfect – perfectly perfecter         than your own and I held it,         I held that thing you love in my solemn fingertips,     and I ripped it apart – invaded every orifice and held it and held it in my indomitable control and ripped the thing you love apart with my solemn fingertips and grinned and I left myself in the thing you love and I invaded every orifice and I     ripped it apart and I held it.     I held it and left myself in it. And for a moment – you were me             and I was you             and we were one.             And we were one… 2 and this is my flesh – it will not scar – and this is my blood – it will not stain – and this is my mind – it knows you well – and this is my heart – you know it well –     and this is my divinity –     and this is my innocence –         and this is my God – he has no name but if there is justice, he will punish you –     and this is my truth. 3 I will find what has been lost,         and I will draw it like venom from the wound into my mouth and I will     look to the thing that I love –             that indomitable truth! –         that miraculous glory! –     and I will deliver to her what you once stole     and I will feed her antidotes         from a dazzling tongue and you will know –         you will know! That the thing you love – that thing                   I hold in                  my dreams – that thing you love is slowly dying;     that torture – that thing you love         can only fade before me     and I will hold it,                 and I will rip it apart;             whether or not you are watching for I am a painter – a splendorous artist     and the soul is my canvas – and that         thing that you love/thing that you hold             cannot scratch the surface             of my reality – of my truth –                 my unconquerable love! and this is my God -       and this is my center         and this is my center –             it has no name             except that she would give it. 4 And Jesu Christo gazed     with vibrant eyes upon those     who had trespassed and he stared         at you as no God         has stared at no man                 who had trespassed and if there is justice –         this is my truth – He weighed the luster of your soul     and stared and you and that thing you love     stared and counted your worth and if there is justice –         this is my center – And lo! Jesu Christo     hefted the crucifix, and weighed     your soul and counted your virtues     and saw your shamelessness – and somewhere –     that thing you love was slowly dying                 in the thing that I love and if!     if there is justice –         and if there is justice –     the Lord will never forgive you –         as I forgive you - and if there is justice – 5 the center nestles within me and quells             in me my raging tempest.     I am simple; never banal. The thing I love –             that terrifying grandeur! –         that divine absolution! –     does not exist pertaining to you         and so that thing you love –         that exquisite agony –                 has slowly died in my solemn fingers. And if there is justice –                     this is my God. ... more Aesthetic Psychosis Aesthetic Psychosis Thu, 05 Jul 2007 05:05:16 GMT /section-391-aesthetic-psychosis#comments 5 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5086 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5086 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5086 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5073-crap-i-need-to-write https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5073-crap-i-need-to-write I'm in a wordless rut again Julie Another attempt at online journaling Tue, 03 Jul 2007 18:25:46 GMT /section-316-another-attempt-at-online-journaling#comments 9 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5073 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5073 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5073 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5021-she-makes-a-difference https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5021-she-makes-a-difference another attempt at a Sonnet. I'm not happy with this one at all. It's supposed to be part of Megs teachers year end gift. she's been so incredible, instilling in Megs a love of poetry, so I thought what better way to thank her then this? Any way, Leanne, anyone else, your help, PLEASE!!!! Shan Shan's Crap (Shannon McEwen) Mon, 02 Jul 2007 23:19:15 GMT /section-37-shan-s-crap-shannon-mcewen#comments 4 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5021 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5021 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5021 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5090-joy https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5090-joy Joy is what children call happiness. Women call it hope; Men, the honor of pain. desde debajo Desde Debajo Sun, 01 Jul 2007 22:12:46 GMT /section-392-desde-debajo#comments 3 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5090 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5090 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5090