https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/section-459-poetry Poetry for the reader and the reviewer...both welcome. Comments and constructive criticism appreciated. en 2005-2012 shakespearesmonekys@gmail.com 42.65593 -71.33391 Wed, 10 Jun 2026 19:04:31 GMT yacs http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss 70 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5638-death-in-the-afternoon https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5638-death-in-the-afternoon She revered words.But onlyin inkwrittenon the pages of booksby men(and women)who were just tryingto make senseof it all. The spoken were understood. But resounded empty, devoid of truth or intention. Impressed by their own sincerity but never quite believing it. Take the words as you would your grand gestures. Square me the circle. Fetch me the moon. Hand me death in the afternoon. word junkie Poetry Sat, 07 Mar 2009 08:00:40 GMT /section-459-poetry#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5638 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5638 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5638 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5680-fuck-love-poetry https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5680-fuck-love-poetry Give me...sexydesperatepainfulblindbloodyrawsoothingtenderjoyousshatteringdizzyyearning insane...poetrybut...fuck lovepoetry word junkie Poetry Sat, 07 Mar 2009 07:58:19 GMT /section-459-poetry#comments 10 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5680 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5680 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5680 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5640-ixion-s-wheel https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5640-ixion-s-wheel tetheredto Ixion's wheelspinning...fiery-wingedthrough cosmosin chaosstellar pinballdazed and burntcravingOrpheus' lyre word junkie Poetry Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-459-poetry#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5640 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5640 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5640 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5641-summer-exhibition https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5641-summer-exhibition The art show of the summer.Artists waiting in lineweighed down by artworksuplifted by dreams.Black Capped adjudicators siton chairs fashioned from temperamental criteria.Value commands a price tag.Merit equals money.But those selling are pleased:even an artist has to make a living.Yet it's those who lie brokenon a bed of unseen canvasescondemned by fickle consensuswho compel me to say something.But as I'm so disgustedI can only vomitand scratch out the words in it. Then submit it next year for consideration. word junkie Poetry Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-459-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5641 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5641 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5641 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5642-the-passers-by https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5642-the-passers-by Peace was clamoured forAs the assortment of vagabondsShambled into townRearranging their disenchantmentIn a chaotic perfection behind them.The crowds lined the streetsCheering silentlyAs the laboured walk of afflicted endeavourPermitted them to glideAs if they had been born on wheels.As only paradox can do.And if there had been a wise man amidst themHe would have joined that line.But as it was the town looked on,And immobilized by flimsy hubris,Watched peace spill out unchallengedAs a few young children ran behindAnd tugged playfully at its coat tails word junkie Poetry Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-459-poetry#comments 2 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5642 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5642 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5642 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5648-poem-for-my-41st-birthday-after-bukowski https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5648-poem-for-my-41st-birthday-after-bukowski Waking...Cloisteredin atheist seclusionwith coffeeand books -a dim bulb in your headand stretch marksveinedand knowing what it's likenot to have a room. ...of course, they're out there making money: teachers, doctors, lawyers, politicians, all those who mistake knowledge for wisdom who think they know better than you when all you know is that you know nothing or the nearest approximation. And you turn over to your left side so that the sun blinds you and you can't see vacancy on your right. word junkie Poetry Thu, 10 Apr 2008 17:31:51 GMT /section-459-poetry#comments 3 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5648 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5648 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5648 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5659-sex-and-poetry https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5659-sex-and-poetry Love. It came and went too fast to breed contempt but long enough to autograph my memory and leave a heart both cracked and weeping. So, what now? With what am I to fill the days? What's left but sex and poetry. word junkie Poetry Wed, 20 Feb 2008 00:45:45 GMT /section-459-poetry#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5659 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5659 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5659 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5645-what-a-let-down https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5645-what-a-let-down After floating in balmy darknessfor nine monthsin gravid contentmentsqueezed through some crushing tunnelfor twelve hoursthen blinking out lights andgulping down foreign airvoices blast my newborn earsand someone smacks meabout the rearonly to sit around for forty yearswaiting for something to happenI find lifesuch a disappointment word junkie Poetry Wed, 20 Feb 2008 00:43:55 GMT /section-459-poetry#comments 3 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5645 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5645 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5645 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5691-watch-out-for-the-love-words https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5691-watch-out-for-the-love-words love words conspired on your tongue ambushed me from behind apostate's lips and your breath didn't smell like parma violets or any of that shit because my sense of smell had eloped with my common sense they lived happily ever after we didn't   word junkie Poetry Tue, 19 Feb 2008 02:16:16 GMT /section-459-poetry#comments 4 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5691 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5691 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5691 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5672-sad-art-ha https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5672-sad-art-ha The flunkies make ready the show. Blind men with poets' eyes hang gnawed string pictures in tin frames. Arrangement takes a lifetime ...or no time at all if no one waits. But they know. They hang the last picture and they holler: "The sad art is on display! It speaks only for you! Ha!" And they throng. word junkie Poetry Mon, 27 Aug 2007 18:43:42 GMT /section-459-poetry#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5672 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5672 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5672 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5677-high-and-low https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5677-high-and-low If my body settles for shady benthoswhere seaweed weaves a makeshift blanket and coral formsa chafing pillow, if the surgeon fish attendmy wounds, would I be lying ifI said my head drifts with the curling cirrus? word junkie Poetry Mon, 27 Aug 2007 17:14:35 GMT /section-459-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5677 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5677 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5677 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5671-my-skin-still-sings https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5671-my-skin-still-sings My skin still sings As the tide of my memory Laps gently at its shore Like the cool waves of your fingers Once did. My skin still sings Across an ocean where Tide upon tide of longing Will ebb and flow Upon flotsam-littered beaches. My skin still sings But now a bleak lament Grips in its undertow The fragile raft which bears Its tender love song. My skin still sings. My skin sings To your skin. word junkie Poetry Mon, 27 Aug 2007 15:47:39 GMT /section-459-poetry#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5671 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5671 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5671 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5646-what-do-they-do https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5646-what-do-they-do What do they do?When their words, desiccated by neglect,lie strewn and obsoleteunfit for usesentenced to non-sentence.What do they do?When their unrealized picturescorrode the backs of their eyelidsan anguish-etched kaleidoscopecondemned to a life-sentence.What do they do?When their music shouts and deafens thembut those around who touch the silencewonder why they scream.How can they make themselves known?Or more importantly...How can they hide themselves? word junkie Poetry Mon, 27 Aug 2007 04:56:28 GMT /section-459-poetry#comments 6 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5646 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5646 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5646 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5660-unpoemed https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5660-unpoemed unmarked unwritten untitled unpoemed unlived word junkie Poetry Sat, 25 Aug 2007 21:40:41 GMT /section-459-poetry#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5660 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5660 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5660 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5654-i-had-something-to-say https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5654-i-had-something-to-say I wanted to speak to themBut my tongue lay heavyParalysed by dissonanceWhile I was hearing violins.I had something to say to themSo as they approachedI wrote the words downAnd threw the books at themAs they passed by word junkie Poetry Fri, 24 Aug 2007 15:18:25 GMT /section-459-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5654 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5654 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5654 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5653-painkiller https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-5653-painkiller Where is sleep?Anodyne to awareness.I close my eyesand see sadness for miles.The night...it passes word junkie Poetry Fri, 24 Aug 2007 15:14:18 GMT /section-459-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/5653 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/5653 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A5653