https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/section-566-poetry en 2005-2012 shakespearesmonekys@gmail.com 42.65593 -71.33391 Sat, 13 Jun 2026 13:32:47 GMT yacs http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss 70 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8014-making-a-mystery-of-pollution https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8014-making-a-mystery-of-pollution Smudge of fire, cold clouds of dawn devour your flaming face; you look like Mars in red defeat- a woman whose last beams of scorn shot down but never reached their mark.   No gazing lovers' eyes were burned last night, your web of stars' slight tremble when I caught you; full and white spying all who would admire the beauty of your March's light, disguised by darkness- when some unknown hour revealed pure anger in your heart.   You tore tides wild, enraged, your violence in unwary seas' blue veins, yet now, I watch the mystery of your bloody face ... more Celticlion Poetry Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8014 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8014 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8014 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8144-stumble https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8144-stumble If you entertain several ideas all at once, inviting suspicion to arrive early, one by one by one- their unshut traps will go hogging down the crowded line of carefully undone appetizers. The tallest mouth eating at the front.   A standing example of why single-filed thinking never hosts parties, where opposing guests having had one too many hasty words, ... more anstey Poetry Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8144 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8144 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8144 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8667-the-treachery-of-jack-grey https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8667-the-treachery-of-jack-grey   Sleek, grey Jack; two lifetimes away from reigning supreme- a weaseling dream, lathered between the preening licks of a posing sphinx, who thinks Old King Cat's time is up.   He slithers, Cocky as a pup When the King seems absent to twirl his monkey tail around my lazy legs, always asking, "Am I not the finest you Have ever seen?"   Shadowing the lion every day,  peacocked paws past his nose, as if to say, I wasn't, you were in MY way, creeping from under ... more Celticlion Poetry Wed, 21 May 2008 18:11:10 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8667 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8667 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8667 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8655-dying-between-time-s-walls https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8655-dying-between-time-s-walls         There stillness spread infinity, A quiet bed's eternal peace, a weightless blue expanse, his head stretched silent universe and wrapped within its black embrace.   He felt the white skin of his face, become a map of spheres and stars, those worlds surrounding his might reach, he woke and stared through metal bars.   He drew the symbols on his face, midnight's forehead above clouds that ticked in sleepless progress toward his ear near cheek, on left's third hour.   He killed time slowly in his head, ... more Celticlion Poetry Tue, 20 May 2008 09:59:29 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 3 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8655 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8655 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8655 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8632-i-knew-her-long-enough-to-know https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8632-i-knew-her-long-enough-to-know A poem that will probably make her sick Celticlion Poetry Sun, 18 May 2008 00:59:33 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 3 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8632 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8632 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8632 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8611-swimming-to-shore-by-ear https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8611-swimming-to-shore-by-ear I just revised this so if anyone would read it and give feedback, I'd muchly appreciate it...C Celticlion Poetry Fri, 16 May 2008 13:32:58 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8611 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8611 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8611 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8581-chanteuse https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8581-chanteuse Last night I sang for them my songs.   In yellow light, I inhaled the silence of their eyes; the soft glint of their longing, deep within my belly.   With my first breath, I tore a tender hole. Dark, I let them fall. How their souls filled my throat! My tremble was a hunger.   Milk streamed on air, blood's ivory sculpted by my tongue, within the shivering marrow   of sleeping ears,   skulls hidden,  haunting kindling's chords;     I burned my naked voice- ... more Celticlion Poetry Mon, 12 May 2008 14:13:26 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8581 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8581 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8581 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8577-not-mine https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8577-not-mine It hurts to touch; hands reaching, leaving safety of the body, knot's centre exposed.   Longing's stone, thrown sinking, dark water's silent surface, a mouth opening, hope breathing in concentric rings, awaiting word.   But deep, heart's threads hang frayed, hands cut away what can't be seen, hidden, alone.   Fragile fingers never speak, touching only knotted stone. Lost pain falls through each  pocket's hole,     Not mine,   she says and runs away. ... more Celticlion Poetry Mon, 12 May 2008 13:12:33 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8577 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8577 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8577 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8165-the-idiot-shoppe https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8165-the-idiot-shoppe That's two a dunce, this bum will cost you thrice.     I saw they kept the stupids by the nose; thin wire went through each nostril; a device, that kept the idiots up on their toes. A mighty moron sat sucking his thumb.     These damaged goods aren't worth the cost you claim!   The owner fiddled with a drill, his sum, was earned by driving bargains with sharp brains.     You're smart, I see, said he, let's have a chat.   Two beefy gimps slammed me facedown in spit. ... more Celticlion Poetry Sun, 11 May 2008 11:38:01 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 3 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8165 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8165 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8165 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8554-path-of-ashes https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8554-path-of-ashes Be quick to love this flameand taste its blue skinbut a night,where cruel the burningmeets the flesh,no cupping wind will keep that light. A preying breathmay steal the shamethat binds the firewhere it burns,then comes the dark upon strange wind,and feeds the red flame as it turns. A path of ash lies on the tongue,and soot drags wetalong the thigh~yet dawn cools pale the waxing night,as black eyes watch the fire die Celticlion Poetry Fri, 09 May 2008 14:09:34 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8554 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8554 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8554 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8552-messenger https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8552-messenger I save you for my last, my love, as kisses cut the lip-slit moan into the smallest pieces. Adoring every edge I tear- your neck's white throbbing bare beneath deep silver's cold caress.   Your blue-eyed stare  bleeds out the hours assembled where my hidden eyes devise the language of your limbs So, they will speak a terror. Celticlion Poetry Fri, 09 May 2008 13:42:59 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8552 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8552 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8552 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8457-found-in-fields-of-grass https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8457-found-in-fields-of-grass A woman is haunted by memories of her lover Celticlion Poetry Sat, 03 May 2008 00:01:43 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8457 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8457 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8457 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8420-instrumental-elements https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8420-instrumental-elements   Night closes her black box but little birds spill out, scattered shadows throwing morning voices wing to tree, cloud to wing.   Fluid blue belly in earth's churning throat; opens song; petal, leaf and eye, sleeping past thirst for light.   Dawn drags birth in skies her slow strength feeds small mouths milky white.   Flooding up come locust tongues to muscle sun wrestling life, each salty flame's drop swallowed touch, day's basking strings sung down singed silver's coming night. Celticlion Poetry Thu, 01 May 2008 15:47:28 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8420 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8420 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8420 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8390-reading-the-manual https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8390-reading-the-manual I never read the manual, I just try to figure stuff out on my own Celticlion Poetry Mon, 28 Apr 2008 22:10:27 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8390 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8390 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8390 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8202-the-poetic-ghetto-of-elemental-process https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8202-the-poetic-ghetto-of-elemental-process   Pull down your hooded eyes, They can't predict when bone Will curl like roots of lightning, Striking where all lips burn grey, All storms have thrown Their stones of turning words As battened tongues flown loose, Heads whip and spill; The slowing rush, The dripping thunder Tears small echoes from each hill, There's no direction left to run, The calling hides its hands of arrows Wind slung deep in falling caverns Mountains gouging out dark skies, Where no one breathes in risen ash But crawling cry into rain's rotted mouth. ... more Celticlion Poetry Sat, 26 Apr 2008 18:22:31 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8202 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8202 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8202 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-7993-clock-of-dead-stop https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-7993-clock-of-dead-stop Then with one finger I wind back the world; a time-piece of seasons. I stop at Autumn. Here, even ghosts of snow can play the part of children waking beneath costumed trees of eternal leaves cast gold, characters of crimson cued in wings, the stage falls dark- until I introduce the moon. I cannot think her light white enough to believe my own illusion. Yet, when I move my mind too close, tomorrow's shadows creep across her face. (This must be changed.) Black as an endless catwalk for my feet ... more Celticlion Poetry Sat, 26 Apr 2008 18:20:15 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/7993 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/7993 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A7993 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8015-the-performance-of-paradise-has-been-cancelled https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8015-the-performance-of-paradise-has-been-cancelled Between finger and thumb, the roll and lick of lone ideas in translucent paper burning, until you have forgotten what they are.   Exhaling existential ghost's odour, destruction's decay clings before euphoria's sweet smell gives way- your eyes close, opening the iron gate.   You crawl, a vapour between bars to sleep beneath a naked tree. The garden knows you will not wake unless her stolen leaves put out your dreams of breathing your first emptiness.   A hazy hissing lifts hungover lids, the prison's panic of approaching clarity, you flee- stopping only to thieve ... more Celticlion Poetry Sat, 26 Apr 2008 18:13:39 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8015 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8015 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8015 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8283-spying-on-twilight-night-and-dawn https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8283-spying-on-twilight-night-and-dawn   Finding myself within a wrinkle edging Twilight's eye, I watched time's hidden grey revealed in shapes that fell where ending day lay fading half-asleep beneath her lidded violet gaze.   Night's waiting well; sun's surface burned to drink, but depth kept darkness cold in velvet's deep. The murmuring thread of Twilight's tongue languidly drew up well's bottom, black filling her cupped hands of mist with inky shadows, rising wet to stain her thirsty lips.   The peering sky bent down to taste her mouth, and all made dark for lovers who must make ... more Celticlion Poetry Sat, 26 Apr 2008 18:08:36 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8283 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8283 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8283 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8016-a-bitter-come-uppance-from-a-snotty-muse https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8016-a-bitter-come-uppance-from-a-snotty-muse Disturb me not, perversely, I am vexed, your fault I blame for splitting wholesome seams, and like a cow whose bitter teat drips sour, I'm left to curse the pig who gives no cream.   These words defeat my nose's tender dreams, for smelling words of Lavender and Rose, delights my pen's belief it never stinks, this pile of manure on paper grows.   It must be yours that squishes between toes, for mine was always fresh as Spring's first grass, your morning sat beneath me as I wrote, each raking blade a stain upon my ass. ... more Celticlion Poetry Sat, 26 Apr 2008 14:18:36 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 1 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8016 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8016 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8016 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8158-recitative https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/article-8158-recitative   The wind whispers, I am a cold darkness, you cannot keep me, my fingers never close but blow within locks, an unwinding thread of Earth's infancy, I will gather the fabric of seas, and wrinkle fields, I will breathe soft stitches in the skin of clouds, pulling them behind, chariots billowing above the beasts I quicken, I will unrest the sleep of your forest's peace, my silver tongue tasting, what hides within broken branches of your mind, the pulp of your heart scattered, with splintered leaves, I will rattle dust, making sleeves of music, whipping the throat of night, making her cry for me, so that I might console each shadow's ear, with my soft sympathy. ... more Celticlion Poetry Sat, 26 Apr 2008 14:15:32 GMT /section-566-poetry#comments 0 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/post.php/article/8158 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/comments/feed.php/article/8158 https://dev.shakespearesmonkeys.com/links/trackback.php?anchor=article%3A8158